A Loving Mother's Absolution
by Zeromaru Chaos Mode
Summary: A moment of stress-born clarity brings about an entirely different future. Alma gets a second chance to do it right. But first...she needs to not only learn how to control her power but..."God i want your babies." ...learn how to people. Uses Fettel ending of Fear 3 as a base.
1. Alteration

He was close.

She could barely feel it past the pain. Past the stress and agony through her body. She could barely move. It was taking everything she had just to hold on.

It hadn't been like this the first time around.

Or the second, for that matter.

But then again, she was likely heavily sedated, very groggy and barely coherent. It had been close calls then as well. Small. Underfed. Lack of muscle strength. Side effects from being in that **tank** for over eight years…

Her mind was splitting. Not head. _Mind._ Her powers reacting in ways she never really thought possible. After the tests when she was young she did her best to restrain them. At least…until they took her babies. Then she didn't care.

To an extent, she still didn't. She just wanted her babies. Her baby. _Love_. To finally have. To finally hold. To finally be _at peace_.

He was close an-…

Wait.

What is that?

Oh. Oh no. No no no. nonononononononononononono _nonononononononononnonononononononononono!_

That's not…

That's _not…_

 _ **That's not her son.**_

Her _first_ son is there but that…that _glowing thing_ next to him wasn't-

…it was coming.

She couldn't do anything. The baby was demanding its emergence. It was too late.

She could do nothing…but watch. Watch as the apparition that resembled her dead son, and her living one, grapple. They struggled, hands locked around biceps, the first pushing with all his weight against the slightly floating fake-second. Her first's visage shaped in a grizzled, angry, _worried_ glare. The fake-second's face dripping with malcontent…and _blood_ from the wound on his forehead.

The place her first shot him.

She was paralyzed. Her powers completely out of her control. She could barely focus to _see_ the fight, let alone try to intervene. This was _not_ at all what she wanted! She wanted a _family_! She wanted her children to have the love she never did!

She was in too much pain. Too disoriented. Too disconnected from anything but the hellscape that had become her inner mental world. Unknown to her, ATC researchers had labeled the destroyed landscape that was her barely functioning mind, the 'Almaverse'. A nightmare realm where all of the negative feelings she had _ingested_ over forty years coalesced into horrific creatures and images.

They called it 'hers'. But it was in no way under her control. A byproduct of her constantly growing, uncontained power.

And yet even then, though her mind-self walked near her son often, she had no true control. For the _thing_ was always nearby. Lurking. Watching. Waiting. _Attacking_.

Thus now, she lay. Unable to move. Barely able to think. Only slightly capable of comprehending the view of the living son knocking the fake one back, only for the fake one to float forward rapidly, vanishing upon contact, throwing the living across the… _nest_ that had become where she was housed.

Panting. Afraid. Immobile. She watched with wide, terrified eyes as suddenly the first's eyes snapped open.

…and a blood-hued haze emerged around him, as a circular mound of inverted flesh manifested right upon his forehead.

He was speaking…not that she could understand past the pain, past the fear, past the pulsating sac that had taken its place where her stomach should have been. _It_ approached. Mournful malice in its gaze. Words spoken to her, barely heard. _It_ leaned down, pulling a knife, cutting _something_ she could not see. Moving. And suddenly it stood.

And just like before.

Just like _always_ before.

 _Someone_ _ **else**_ _was holding her baby_.

She wanted to rage. She wanted to be infuriated. And indeed, she was. But…

The exhaustion.

The fear.

She was _drained_.

He was speaking again. But all she could hear was her own thoughts.

 _No…_

… _please…_

… _not…not…this…_

 _Not…again…_

He stood to approach her…but she had closed her eyes. He believed, in fear.

… _please…_

… _someone…_

… _anyone…_

… _ **Please**_ _…_

… _ **help me…**_

… _ **help me…**_

 _ **...HELP ME!**_

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 00: Alteration**

 **Alma Wade** was an extremely powerful psychic. From an incredibly young age, for unknown reasons, she suddenly awoke to the power to detect and in some vague sense, absorb, people's emotions, mostly focusing on the negative scale. She would hear their thoughts without prompting. She would feel their fears, their anger, their hate, their depression and disappointment as her own. She had little control over it.

And eventually, those powers evolved. From simply being able to detect, she became now, able to act. Movement of objects with her mind and will, distortions and conversions of other's senses, even the ability to hyper-accelerate molecules in objects around her to cause them to burst into flame.

Over time, her powers became far more than she could safely handle, her father, Harlan Wade, bringing her to his workplace's less-advertised areas, to run a series of tests on the girl. Ultimately, those psychic powers became so strong that even when she tried suppressing them, to intentionally fail said tests, they would still be active enough to cause physical discomfort for anyone near her. And if she _didn't_ hold back, she could scar, sear, and even _melt_ flesh.

It became such, that she was not allowed to be handled by anyone that wasn't securely in protective gear that resisted the effects of her passive powers.

Of course, nothing could stop her if she _wanted_ to hurt anyone. But…being a little girl, even if one who was severely damaged by _ingesting_ so much negativity in her life, she just wanted to be held, and normal.

At around eight years old, her father was convinced by multiple co-workers that she had become too much to control. Too dangerous. He was reluctant, at first, but they pushed and pushed and eventually he caved, allowing Armacham Technological Corporation's specialists to cart his daughter away, and seal her in a specially created underground containment facility, called the 'Vault'. There, she was forced unconscious and locked away in a vat of amniotic fluid, for seven years.

During those seven years, either of his own choice, or of coercion by other ATC members, Harlan Wade became part of a project to develop a series of super soldiers. The idea was to create a soldier with psychic capabilities, and a series of man-made clones to be directed, thus allowing the psychic commander experience on the battlefield without putting any actual human lives at risk. By way of this, they decided to use his daughter's DNA as a template, adding the 'genetic material' of multiple people (including Harlan himself) together with her, to inseminate her, and have her carry child.

Well, they did. And at sixteen, she had become a mother. During labor, she fully woke from her induced coma, learning what had happened. Still with the mindset of an eight year old, she was in pain, confused, but not entirely actively against the procedure, what little she knew, as it was mostly her body doing the work on its own.

The problem came, when the baby was born, and her father had simply taken her firstborn son, not even allowing her to hold him for but a moment, before demanding she be knocked back out, and re-sealed within the Vault.

The program failed.

At first.

This was because the first child did not show any outward psychic capabilities. This being contrary to what they desired, they had the son be taken away and tried again.

A year later, Alma had given birth a second time.

 _This_ child, had shown signs of psychic power. Both were raised close by to one another, but it was the one they would later name 'Paxton Fettel' that was their success.

…until Alma's power grew enough that she could leak her will past the telesthetic suppressor field, and connect to her second son's mind.

At that point, mentally ten, if that, but with the physical growth of an adult in her twenties; Alma connected directly to Paxton's young mind, overriding his will and emotions with her sense of betrayal, hatred, and rage. The termed 'Synchronicity Event' had the young boy 'flipping his shit' and murdering multiple people, until he was sedated and the link broken.

After that, the project was canned, they scrubbed as much information as they could, they terminated life support functions to the Vault, and left it all behind.

Except Alma lived…for six more years.

Her power being strong enough to keep her body alive for a good while, likely assisted by the slowly decaying fluids she was suspended in, her emotional corrosion would leak out to the area outside the vault, giving terrible nightmares and a general sense of unease to everyone who lived in the Auburn district nearby.

And yet, even when her body perished, her psychic presence remained. Locked away in that tube, curled up, thinking she was still that betrayed little girl.

Her powers would _continue_ to grow. To the point where when Genevive Arestide - a complete _idiot_ of a woman concerned only with getting results and making herself look good in the eyes of the company – reopened the Vault, Alma's presence immediately leapt outward, and re-connected with a still living Paxton Fettel.

Overriding his consciousness with her own yet again, she would guide him to a multitude of grisly murders – including that of her own younger sister – some by her own hand directly, all with the intention of _wiping out everyone related to ATC_.

Alma Wade, was a girl-woman on a mission. With powers that continued to grow even beyond death. To the level where after she was released, after she somehow resurrected her body, after she impregnated herself in the hopes of having a child she could _be loved by_ in the way nobody in her family ever did; the _world around her_ began to distort.

Normal space was slowly infected and infused with her powers, turning it into a nightmarish landscape reflecting her twisted feelings and upbringing.

In the words of modern media, she had created, without her even knowing, what could be called an 'innate bounded field', or short-handed, a 'reality marble'. A space of one's own inner world, a distorted perception of reality that could be turned 'inside-out' to supplant normal space, with a dimension that encompassed one's inner being.

To put it simply, before? When she was just coming out of the Vault, just beginning to wander the destroyed Auburn district? Only psychics could detect her, stronger ones able to hear her presence as a series of wandering sobs, bursts of knowledge of her pain and sorrow being implanted in their minds. Everyone else would just feel a vague but strong sense of unease, and occasionally a faded image of a little girl.

It was only when she actively attacked, did non-psychics have the ability to see the results of her actions. And even then, it looked like an invisible force ripping the flesh off of people's bodies, melting muscles down into liquid blood, leaving behind charred, glistening skeletons.

After impregnating herself, her power grew _again_. And in doing so, now, went even more wildly out of control. As it did, her 'innate bounded field' the world inside the depths of her mind, began leaking outward. Slowly at first, but as she got closer and closer to the time of birth, it would expand rapidly. Non-psychics were now seeing apparitions of her and the twisted creatures manifested from her powers. Psychics with weaker wills were being overridden, drawing archaic symbols and spirals and carvings using their own blood. Images were being made physical, made real, as deformed creatures and horrors from her nightmares were now gaining physical shape and action in the real world.

Effectively, she became what would be called a 'reality warper'. All without input from her end.

So what ended up happening next…as she silently called out for help…

That was just _another_ evolution of her power.

After all…what is _reality_ save what we make of it…?

* * *

"… _hello…?"_

Her eyes snapped open.

… _what…?_

She was confused. Where was the sac-that-was-her-belly? Where were the flesh covered wall-tendrils keeping her in place? Why…was she wearing a red dress?

She looked around, seeing a…lab? No. An office? No not quite that either. There were computers around…but it wasn't a server room of any sort. It looked like a workstation. One part office, one part printing lab?

Simple folding chairs of warped brown metal and grey plastic cushioning dotted the open spaces of three sets of long tables. Gridded windows barred with fence-like cages on the outside – likely to keep birds from flying in – illuminated the room with the soft glow of the midday sun through light cloud coverage.

The walls were a dark blue and held many hanging papers pinned to notice boards. A rolling whiteboard was off in a corner, colored scribbles she couldn't make out through her blurry sight, upon it. Next to her, as her hand shifted to push herself up more, was a bundle of maroon cloth.

 _Is…is this…_?

Sitting up, she then noticed him.

"… _miss? You ok?"_

A little boy. Couldn't be any older than ten. Light brown skin, curly black hair, wearing a pair of blue-jean overalls atop a sky blue shirt with what looked like some red, fuzzy creature on the front. He looked…worried. Not _scared_ but definitely concerned.

 _I…who are you?_

"… _I was gonna catch up with my class after going to the bathroom when I heard someone calling for help. There was nobody around that I could find so I just followed the voice. Was that you?"_

She blinked. _I…yes…_

" _What's wrong? Are you hurt?"_

Wasn't that the short of it?

But…this place. It was so weird. So different from where she just was. And that bundle next to her…

…and then it hit her.

'heard someone calling for help.'

…was this her answer? A glance outside had already told her that the sky was normal. The air felt different. Less heavy. Less constricting. Her head was clear, for once. The pain gone.

Maybe…it didn't matter _how_ …

 _Yes. No…I…I don't know. But yes…I was calling for help. And you came. Thank you._

That was a new feeling. Gratefulness. A feeling of being…assisted.

Good gods he was _pure_. The only thing she could feel off of him was a small bit of uncertainty – she _was_ a stranger after all – and a feeling of worry. Not for himself…but for _her_.

She wanted to snatch him up and hold him close and never let go.

But…even if he wasn't _melting_ right now…didn't mean if she got to close he wouldn't.

" _are you hurt?"_

Yes she was. But…

Her eyes noted the bundle next to her. The same bundle that not-Fettel had held. Maybe it was her child. Maybe not. But…

She wanted to start over.

Yes, she still wanted a family of her own. Yes, she still wanted a baby she could hold. Yes, she still wanted – and was happy to do so – her father and everyone at Armacham _erased_ but…

But she didn't want it to be like _this_.

Not like this. Not if it meant her son would die, _she_ would die, her _child_ would become a pawn of something that was of her but not.

Yes…in this…strange place that wasn't the world she knew…she could think clearly now. The thing that was shaped like her second son was _just_ like the thing that was her father but not.

She wanted a second chance…

And it looked exactly like she was about to get it.

 _I need you to do something for me._

" _What is it?"_

 _Out there…somewhere…is a little girl. A girl in a red dress, with shiny black hair and pretty blue eyes. The same age as you. She's scared. She's lonely. She's angry and hurt. You're going to meet her. There's no doubt about that. But…when you do…I need you to be her friend…okay?_

He nodded gently. _"Okay."_

 _And when you do…give her this._

She grasped the bundle next to her. It felt solid, but not. It felt warm…but not. It had a vague shape other than the cloth it was wrapped in. But that shape could only truly be defined by one who knew what it was _supposed_ to be.

Slowly, she beckoned the child closer, holding the bundle out to him.

 _It's…a gift. For her. A gift I can't give her on my own. Because I'm not going to be here when she is, you see. So I need you to be her friend, and to give her that, once you are._

" _But how's that gonna help you?"_

Oh god he was just too precious. _This_ was what she wanted her whole life. Eyes on her, for her, about her.

…and when she thought about it…this was _exactly_ what she was going to get.

It just made her resolve all the stronger.

 _Because in a very weird way, she and I are a lot alike. Almost the same. And if you give that to her, then she'll be happy. And when she's happy, I'll be happy._

"… _are you her mother?"_

Oh she wanted to _laugh_ at that.

 _No, sweetie. I'm just someone who knows what its like to grow up without friends._

" _that sucks. I'll be your friend."_

…damn her inability to hug him until they both passed out.

 _Yes…yes you will…thank you._

Something _pulled_ at her. Her time was up, it seemed. This dream or vision or whatever it was, was coming to an end.

 _I'm sorry, my new friend. But I have to go now._

" _Awww…okay. But…are you sure you're alright? You don't look too good…"_

 _I'm fine. Now, I am. Now that I know she'll be alright, I'm just fine._

The pulling got stronger. The room began to fade.

 _Just please…take care of her._

" _I'll do my best!"_

The only thing she could see was him. Her shining light. Her little hope.

 _One…one last thing…your name…please…tell me your name…?_

" _Me? Selh'teus Rodin! But you can just call me_ _ **Seth**_ _."_

 _ **Seth**_ _. Yes…a wonderful name…_

Images shot through her mind. Flashes of information, of history and knowledge. The Etymology of his name. A name meaning "anointed one" "chosen one". The name of a **God**. An Egyptian God of Storms, Chaos, Destruction. A God seen as Evil, yet also with ties to heroism in his tales. The name of the third son of Adam and Eve.

Altogether, the name of one who is storied to be powerful, dangerous, and a bringer of great change, good or ill.

The _perfect_ name for the one who would be her savior.

 _My…_

The pulling was _strong_ now. Almost to strong to resist. There was nothing left in her view but him. The little boy holding the cloth bundle that was very much likely the culmination of her entire history.

 _...her…_

One last thing! Just one more statement and she'd go back!

… _ **our**_ _...name…is…_ _ **Alma.**_

* * *

A loud scream.

He barely noticed it. All he could see was the bundle in his hands.

A bundle…that was vanishing. Just like _she_ did.

But he wasn't worried.

He'd promised.

She vanished. So the bundle doing the same was fine.

He didn't see the frantic hands of his teacher grabbing his shoulders.

He didn't see the red liquid on his arms, on his front, around his feet.

He didn't see the blood dribbling down his nose.

He didn't feel it leaking from the corners of his eyes.

He didn't hear the questions, the screams or gasps.

He was focused on one thing. One spot in his view.

He saw the patches of dead grass.

He saw the beaker-like building off in the distance.

He saw the rolling clouds and bright blue sky.

He heard the creaking of old wood.

He felt the gentle breeze of a spring day.

But most importantly…

He saw the sight of a little girl, in a red dress, with shiny black hair.

And the last thing he saw, was that little girl hopping off the rope swing on an old tree branch.

Turning to face him.

* * *

Her eyes snapped open again.

He was leaning towards her.

But suddenly, the world flickered. The thing possessing the body of her son, recoiled. It looked around wildly. The air was growing heavy. The flesh-mutated room was beginning to fizzle and pop. Loud discharges of white noise echoed as the world became hazy and distorted.

"What…what is this…?"

A hoarse gurgle of released air.

His head snapped to look at her.

She had a bloody smile. Her eyes twinkling – _twinkling!_ – with fading mirth.

"What…what did you do…?"

Another raspy gurgle in the shape of a chuckle.

"Mother! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

 _You…are_ _ **not**_ _my son._

He stepped back, shocked. Enraged.

Everything began fading. Crumbling. Her body began to sizzle and shimmer. His body began manifesting chips in the flesh, blood red hazy light emerging from rapidly spreading fissures.

 _You_ _ **killed**_ _, my son._

His face became twisted. Rage, hatred, _fear_. His eyes widened, the cracks spreading further, his body shuddering as if something were not merely trying to emerge from within, but also _crush him from without._

 _And now…my baby._ _ **My**_ _baby…_

The bundle began to rise of its own accord. The being that called itself Paxton Fettel stared in shock as the child's shrill cries became painfully loud. The air around it began to _vibrate_. Ripples of almost solid distortion wafting off of the bundle like waves generated from a tossed stone in a pond.

 _Is_ _ **safe.**_

And with the combined force of an earsplittingly loud wail, and the sound of an entire city block's worth of air being removed in an instant.

The distortion waves _inverted_. And the bundle _**vanished**_ **.**

The last thing she thought, as her vision went white, and her ears were filled with the sound of fading static, was of her triumph.

… _go to_ _ **daddy**_ _, sweetie…mommy will see you soon…_


	2. Awakening

The dream again.

So many times, she's had it. Countless. Over and over and over. And it was always the same. A person would appear, she'd look at them for a moment, probe a little of their minds and wills, and then teleport away. They weren't the ones who should be here. Their confusion would fill her mind, their fear would engulf her heart…ugh so tiresome and _boring!_ Each mind rejecting her own…each heart shutting itself off from her touch.

Though she had connected to Pickle-P's mind once again, driving him to continue what they'd started a while back, everyone else was just…bounced away. So she would just lead them out, away from her. They were useless. Still, her second son was now searching for a way to free her from her prison…while that _thing_ chased him. She couldn't see into _its_ mind. Was it human? Was it a construct like the horrid experiments A.T.C. had made? She didn't know.

The worst of it was that it had a vague sense of familiarity. Like a name or a word at the tip of the tongue, the edge of the mind. One that was just teasing her knowledge, or lack-thereof. She couldn't _touch_ it though. She couldn't see into its mind, somehow it either having extremely powerful defenses, or a lack of a mind at all. Her vision was spotty, like that, if she wasn't _there_. The damn Bubble keeping her from going too deep.

But still…the dream came again. A connection made…time to watch it break all over again…

* * *

 _Damn this is the third time in a row!_

Once again, his strange dream looped itself. The first time, he had followed some woman his mental self called Genevieve Aristide to this unusual chamber where strange lights would flare off. Her voice was annoying, her mannerisms self-important. He could tell he didn't like this woman whoever she was.

The second time he'd found himself being attacked by shallow skinned monsters covered in blood, running like insects along the walls, their forms blurred by their speed. They were bald and topless, blue fluttery pants looking similar to hospital scrubs being the only thing they wore. They could literally defy gravity, running on walls and bounding off of ceilings, faster than he could track. They were feral, slobbering, and a pain in the ass to deal with.

But the third…was different. He found himself rising, propping against a fallen over vehicle. The world was dimmed, as if someone put mood lights on. The ground covered in ash. He looked up, and saw a child. A girl, who looked somewhere between five and ten, wearing a long red dress, with lengthy black hair that reached down to her waist stood before him. Her feet were drenched in a red substance that his second mind deduced as blood, and she was clutching a doll by the arm. Her entire posture radiated defeat, hopelessness, depression…and loneliness.

He realized, he'd not seen this girl before, in the back to back trio of dreams. It was a path he'd not traveled. She looked at him, lifeless, deadened eyes glancing past her night colored locks, and then turned. When their eyes locked, he noticed something about her. The air started to shimmer like a heat haze. As if she were preparing something. To kill him? To flee? He didn't know. But she paused when words flew from his mouth, his sleeping mind confused as to why he was saying it.

"You're Alma…right?"

* * *

Okay that was…new. Nobody before had ever known my name. I never told them. Never had the chance really. They'd take one look at the sky and then one look at my feet and suddenly be covered in fear. This one was…different.

Still…it was…nice…to hear my name spoken without hatred. Or fear. Or disgust.

Ok it was nice to hear my name spoken by someone that had nothing to do with my life at all.

So…on a reaction I…gave a small smile back.

Something _else_ nobody had done for me in a very long time.

* * *

I didn't know who this little girl was. But something in me was…pleased. I reached a hand out to her, ignoring the twisting pools of ash and dust whipping along the broken road.

I was happy…I don't know why I was happy. It felt as if I'd found who I was looking for, someone I'd been seeking for a very long time. The me asleep listened to the me in dream speak again.

"What say we get you out of this place?"

* * *

Get out? Wait what? Of…of where? The dream? Or the Vault? Who was this guy? Who was he that wasn't afraid of…well EVERYTHING around us! We were stood in an absolutely _ruined_ city. Angry murky brown sky lit by flashes of blood red lightning. Pieces of buildings and sidewalks and roads scattered about, broken pathways leading to deep sinkholes, shattered buildings, splintered glass, twisted metal and pools of blood that may or may not have originally been water…

And yet here he was. On one knee, hand reached out, asking for mine.

Did…did he not know? Did he not know my rage? My hatred?

…or maybe…

Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe he _did_ know…but didn't care. Maybe…

Maybe it was time I tried _trusting_ someone…one last time…

* * *

After a brief moment where it seemed as if she was going to turn and run, her eyes…they seemed to recover some of their lost light. Her smile…it was beautiful.

It was as if moonlight were reflecting off of serene waves in the ocean.

As if a rising sun colored the sky in a myriad color of pink and violet waving together.

It was as if a tired…battered…beaten child…were finally offered the love and affection of the parents that rose arms against them.

Or…in her case…as if someone had finally accepted her for who she was…as if she had finally found a friend.

A massive wave of emotion washed over me. My heart felt lightened by the brilliance of her ashen covered face. Her eyes seeming to twinkle like stars in the night. I felt her feelings…hope, joy…and a small bit of fear, which was quickly beaten back by the other, more positive emotions.

She held out a shaky hand, and I felt myself gently take her tiny hand in my own.

 _It's so soft…_ My inner self thought. The 'me' that knew that it was a dream. I blinked, and next I knew I was carrying her on my left arm, her own arms around my neck, her legs wrapped around my torso, with my forearm supporting her under her behind. I was about to turn when I remembered something.

She was holding something, wasn't she? It might have been important to her.

* * *

"Oh right, can't forget this…" he suddenly said. I felt myself look at him, confused, before he knelt down again. He had me at an angle, as if to suggest something. For a moment, I thought he wanted me to let go…when I traced his line of sight.

My doll.

The doll left behind when they put me in that damn bubble.

The doll that would forever remain in front of my only place of joy…the swing back on Still Island.

How the _HELL_ did he know?! I was in shock at the time…but I gratefully leaned down, detached a single arm from around him and grasped the baby's wrist, pulling it up. I clutched it to my chest, supporting myself on him with my remaining arm.

This…man. He was male. That's all I could tell. The rest of him was…blurry. Shadowed. But… _comfortable_. I couldn't _see_ him. Honestly I'd never been able to _see_ the majority of the minds I connected to. But I'd always chalked that up to them rejecting me. Maybe it was something else. But…

I couldn't see him. And yet…I'd never felt _safer_.

My attention was split. I could see flickers of sight outside of this…dream. Little Pickle-P (not so little anymore now is he?) was getting closer. So was the… _thing_. They were both almost here. Along with…something my mind refused to acknowledge.

But I shoved all that away. Rejected it, just like everyone _but him_ rejected me.

And we turned. To the golden light glowing beneath the tree that housed my swing. I don't know how it got there but there it was. And beneath it…a shining light that felt like… _oozed_ with something I'd given up any belief of ever finding.

 _Hope_.

* * *

"Well…here goes everything. Ready?"

I looked at her. She looked at me, smiled and nodded. Both of us were confident that whatever that light was, it would take us out of this place. I could feel it. Her emotions resonating with mine. She was happy…no, she was ecstatic. It almost seemed like her very being was radiating pure joy. And I wasn't about to let her down. We turned as one…and I took a single step, into the unknown.

Unknown…save for one thing.

Whatever awaited us on the other side…we'd face it together.

* * *

I don't…

I wouldn't begin to be able to tell you how many meetings there were between us.

Nor how long they lasted, or when they happened or…anything.

But every now and then my mind would reach out and I'd see _him_ again.

Until…

Until something _changed_.

It must have been just before…before my father broke the seal. Before I was… _she_ was set free.

* * *

I was at my Tree. Sitting on the swing. Swinging slowly back and forth. Alone. As I usually was, back then. Isolated, surrounded by nothing but myself. But things were odd, I'd noticed. The small hovel where my Tree was, was an _island_ for one. A tree at the top of a hill overlooking a rocky cliff. The grass was also greener, and there was more of it. And there were small flowers. Flowers of multiple colors and shapes but they were all so tiny. Barely taller than the grass.

It was strange, but not entirely unusual, for a dream, I guess. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks, hear the distant 'caws' of seagulls flying about. The sky was blue, the clouds were few but fluffy and pillow-white. The sun was shining in the sky…

But…something looked strange about it all. The air felt…odd. Not to mention off over the horizon I _swear_ I saw some kind of building that wasn't the Still Island reactor.

I was alone.

Until I wasn't.

"Oh hello."

I whirled around, hair slapping myself in the face. Standing suddenly not ten feet from the tree was a boy. A boy who looked around my age. Curly black hair, chocolate skin, dark brown eyes, wearing a red t-shirt and a pair of shorts. I was confused. The only person I had actually conversed with, in these dreams was the man who-

"Would you like a push?"

A push? …oh. On the swing.

I was still confused, and uncertain, especially since _I couldn't feel him_ but…I nodded anyway.

And oh so gently, he pulled the swing with me on it back, and then threw it forward.

We stayed like that for…I don't know it felt like hours. I'd actually started to relax around this kid. He never shied away or recoiled so he must have had some resistance to my powers or _something_ but…

Suddenly I didn't feel the push anymore. He had turned and bent down at his bag which…somehow I had missed him carrying. He pulled out a pair of coloring books and a box of crayons, holding them out.

"Wanna?"

Well, I suppose I was getting tired of swinging. I nodded again and hopped off.

And yet again, it felt like, hours had passed. Just the two of us, laying on our stomachs, on an island hill, coloring. It was calm, it was quiet, it was peaceful…

It was _great_.

And then he said something that confused me further.

"So I thought I might have been wrong, but being around you it seems not. Shiny black hair, red dress, blue eyes, lonely, you're definitely her. Alma, right?"

I'd never told him my name. Hell I'd never spoken. Shocked, I just nodded.

"Thought so. Been waiting for you, actually. Took longer than I thought. But, I have something for you."

He reached behind him, turning around and…held out a bundle of maroon cloth.

"I dunno what it is. But _she_ asked me to give it to you. And to be your friend. We're friends now, right?"

Absently I nodded.

"So then I guess it's alright to give this to you now."

He held it out to me. Slowly, I took it. It felt…human-shaped.

But…when I unwrapped it…everything changed.

* * *

What I saw was…terrible. Horrible.

Some of it was welcome. The deaths of many of Armacham. The destruction of the Origin Facility.

Learning the _thing_ was actually my **first son**.

That had me crying. I'd been trying to kill him the whole time. I felt like a tool. I _was_ a tool.

But I saw the rest…death. Destruction. Madness. _Pain._

I saw everything that happened. Everything that was happening. Everything that _was going to happen_.

And when it ended, we were at Still Island.

And I _knew_ , it had to stop.

 **Right Now.**

I didn't want the world to end. Not until I saw him again.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 01 - Awakening**

The fight had steadily progressed worse. With the second switch pulled, Keegan now seemed to be able to not only match Becket's hyper speed but also make copies of himself.

No, not in the sense that Keegan was moving so fast it looked like he was in multiple places at once. Not 'afterimages', superimpositions of glitches in the brain's memory partitions being overloaded trying to keep sight of something moving faster than it could track. Literal, actual clones. With autonomous actions.

 _Knew I should have watched more anime with my little cousin…she'd probably be better at dealing with this than me at this point._ He thought to himself.

Bullets flew every which way as Becket tried his best to not get hit so often he would die. A dip into his enhanced reflexes saw him evading one flying for his left temple, ducking under another that was heading for his right ear, shifting sideways to slip past a side-by-side pair that were ever so slightly spreading away from one another, and lifting his left arm over the path of yet another.

After the small display of dexterity – one that had been made many a time before in this fight – he fired his own salvo. Seemingly shooting without aim, the man fired once, then twice more, then twice again, and finally three times. Of the eight bullets fired, two found purchase in a clone's head, one through a left arm, and another – _oooch, sorry Keeg._ – in a crotch. The others missed, but served the purpose to keep Keegan's attention on evading much like Becket did, which was used to fair effectiveness.

For now, the two had locked arms, grappling with one another, near the final switch. Slowly, as the barren landscape swirled with malignant dust – what? Even with his headset it still damn near got in his eyes constantly, it was _evil_ – and pulsed with ill intent; Becket began to overpower his friend and partner, holding back tears as the man's face morphed from possessed malicious rage to dawning horror to slow acceptance.

" **Becket…kill me…"**

The pistol was raised, his finger on the trigger, both of their arms shaking with exertion. His finger tensed and-

" _That's_ _ **enough!**_ _"_

Suddenly the _storm_ broke, the barren twisted crater _pulsed_ , the gun was ripped from his hands, and for a brief moment he was treated to the view of the naked corpse riding his body being wrenched off of him, as both he and Keegan were forcibly separated.

And a familiar little girl stood between them.

Becket landed heavily on his back, but began to rise, until a disturbingly – and _frighteningly_ – familiar creaking sound, groaned through the air. Panic began to set in as he saw the winding tendrils of large brown roots grab at him, tensing as he expected to feel the searing pain of her telesthetic field eating at his flesh…

Only to just be roughly lifted off the ground and held tightly as if tied by ropes.

" _You, stay there."_ The girl spoke without speaking, sending an annoyed glare towards him. As she turned to the other occupant of the…now…changing landscape…

Her face softened.

" _You…lay down."_

" **I…Al** ma…"

" _Shhh…"_ She hushed him, finger on her lips, as she gently padded over. Becket was confused and afraid. He'd barely truly understood _anything_ the past week, since he first woke up after that terrible operation, but this…

The world around them was changing. The breaker with the switches were still there, the cage of hardened roots was still there…but the sky was…beginning to turn blue. The winds were dying down. There was…healthy, green grass beginning to grow and…flowers and butterflies and what the _hell_ was going on here?!

Keegan tried to rise only for the girl to lay a soft hand on his vest and push down, where he obeyed.

Always, would he obey.

" _You, have been absolutely wonderful, dear. Thank you. Thank you so much for listening. But you're too far gone. This is all that's left of you and to leave you like this…"_

She shook her head softly.

"…I…"

" _I know, dear. I know. It's time for you to sleep, Harold."_

The black haired child gently stroked the older man's charred, cracked face.

" _And I promise you…when next you wake…everything will be right as rain."_

Softly, _lovingly_ , words came from her, as a gentle but defined creaking of old wood began to slowly echo.

" _Dearly Beloved, in Death we pray your Hope retain."_

A flower sprang into being next to her.

" _Dearly Beloved, we grant Forever and a Blade."_

A dagger appeared – wooden, carved hilt with floral engravings on the blade, polished to a glimmering silver sheen and looking sharp as sharp could be – in Keegan's clasped hands.

" _Dearly Beloved, these Tears we gift into your Name."_

And tears there were. Softly flowing down the child's face, faintly obscured by her fluttering hair.

" _Life been lost yet Soul remains. I acknowledge all you Were. No pain remains, no feeling. Eternity awaits."_

A sad, soft smile appeared on her face.

" _Grant thee Wings that you may Fly, your final Rest is calling. No pain remains, no feeling._ _ **Eternity Awaits.**_ _"_

And with a swift lean, she delivered a soft kiss to the man's forehead. Upon doing so, a _bone deep_ sigh emerged from his chapped lips, muscles losing all tension, as his flesh _faded_ into chipped flakes of pale blue-white light that fluttered away in the form of scattering, glowing butterflies, spiraling towards the heavens.

The child gave a weary sigh, standing up and slowly approaching Becket.

"What…what did you-

" _Gave him a much gentler rest than he would have gotten otherwise."_

She made her way to stand between him and the switcher.

" _You know…you're…you're freaking annoying."_

"Me?!" he blurted out incredulously.

" _Always forward with you. Like you're some kind of Drone. Come on Michael, think for yourself! No research at all."_

"Wha-ugh! _Excuse me_ for being confused and running for my life from some crazy psychic psycho trying to…whatever the hell you were doing to me!"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. _"Yeah. That. That's not going to happen. Not now."_

"I don't get it."

" _Honestly it's none of your business. It never was. Never should have been. And if I'm right…after this, it won't be anymore."_

"What the hell are you talking about?"

" _This never should have involved you. It's all that Aristide cunt's fault. Stupid bitch thinks she can use_ _ **my**_ _son as a bargaining chip she's got another thing coming!"_

It was almost comical how the girl stomped her foot, face scrunched in an annoyed childish scowl.

Almost.

"What are you going to do?"

It was less a question, more a statement.

He might not have _understood_ what was happening. Not really. But the changes in the last five minutes were sudden and drastic. That they came from the little girl he'd only seen before the explosion, meant something significant.

Even if he couldn't exactly grasp _what_ that was.

He could only watch as she walked over to the switcher, to grasp the final lever.

" _Set things right."_

And yank it back with all her strength.

* * *

She had been thrown off of him.

But it didn't feel like _his_ rejection. Even though her rage built and she clamored to her feet to try again, some part of her mind recognized it _wasn't him at all_.

And it wasn't.

It was _her_.

She stopped, staring with hollow, dead eyes.

At the image of her younger self, standing in front of her prey.

 **Holding a bundle of maroon cloth.**

" _You need to stop."_

What? No. After all this…she was finally going to-

" _It won't end the way you think it will. He won't love you for it. He'll hate you."_

No…no he won't. She's seen him. He's a good man. He'll-

" _You were_ _ **raping**_ _him. Rape! That's not a thing that people in love do! That's not a thing that people derive love from!"_

Shut up! Their baby-

" _Would have been taken away."_

What?! NO!

" _Yes. I've seen it."_

 **The bundle float out of the child's arms.**

" _And now you will too."_

 **And her vision was taken.**

* * *

She saw indeed.

First, the immediate. Herself, rabidly humping away at Becket, occasionally beating his chest, his arms, his face. Her will crashing against his, all while his slowly growing power tried to fight her off, tried to shove her away.

Her little self was right. Even to the end, he was rejecting her. He'd never been swayed by her, never truly found her attractive in any form. She was an enemy at worst, at best, a nuisance. She meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. She was the one who killed his friends, led them to their deaths, tried on multiple times to erase him.

It hurt.

It hurt it hurt it _hurt_.

Even as she watched him fight both her and the psychic remnants of Harold Keegan back at the same time, it _hurt_ her to be forced to see the rejection.

She watched the _climax_. Him killing Keegan, thus erasing what was left of the man's spirit. Him pulling the final lever. Her being finally overridden by his will…right after getting what she wanted.

All ending with her standing before him, heavily pregnant, in an altered space that she would later learn was her inner-world. Orange sky, hazy air, burning universe.

The visions progressed. Rapidly showing the decline of the world around her, shifting to various people, fleeing their homes as her presence grew. Scenes of brutal rapes, murders, arsons. People on fire, people bleeding, people bored down to the bone.

 _ **Blood and Thunder.**_

She watched as ATC forces spread. Armacham avoided the lawsuit headed their way thanks to Alma playing distraction. FEAR could do nothing, as they had bought out senators the country over. Fairport was 100% in Armacham's back pocket. Homes were pillaged, people were lined up and shot in the streets, all while those who were susceptible to her powers steadily lost their sanity. Archaic designs and spiraling patterns, glyphs and sigils and crests and rituals were designed and executed in blood and pain and sorrow and fear.

Entire homes painted with blood in strange squiggles and child-like drawings and covered in eyeball patterns and hurt to look at for too long as if the symbols were _alive_ and _glowing_ and _calling out for someone._

Armacham's research led to the development of all sorts of new and twisted experiments. Origin and Harbinger produced hundreds of Commanders and replica troops were at an all-time high.

But then she saw _them_.

Her sons.

Or rather…her _son_ , and the **thing** that took the shape of her second.

She watched them battling all manner of ATC forces, all while trying to fight their way to the center of Fairport where the strange distortions were emerging from.

She watched him hurt. She watched him bleed. She watched him _kill_.

And then **it.**

Long, tall, slender, missing eyes or a nose but a mouth that split open vertically like mandibles and covered its entire lower face. Emaciated splotchy pink skin, a gaping hole leading from just beneath its ribcage all the way down to the crotch area, held together by ropey sinew and muscle.

 **It** had no name, no designation, just that it was _powerful_ and dangerous and it _terrified her so much she unconsciously huddled closer to her child self every time it appeared_.

It knew neither friend nor foe it murdered indiscriminately as it pleased with a particular focus on her son and the not-son tethered to him.

She watched them flee from it. She watched them confront it. She watched them face the depths of their memories and finally _kill_ it.

All while the world slowly and steadily got less and less logical. Monsters from nightmares she'd long since forgotten began spilling out into the material world, horrors from bad memories and hate-filled thoughts demanding blood and flesh as tribute before continuing on like a rolling plague of gnashing teeth and firey claws.

They found Becket. Oh Becket. Who was _still_ rejecting her. Rage-filled and pained, she watched the not-son dig into his memories, forcing him to speak his secrets. The father of her child. The one she wanted to start a family with.

 **Dead**.

Exploded into bloody chunks just like _every other body_ the not-son inhabited.

 **Dead.**

She felt sick.

She felt angry.

She watched the world crumble.

And finally she saw herself.

She was _disgusting_.

The bulbous tumor that had once been a stomach, tied by fleshy tendrils clinging to the walls and ceiling around her, corroding into slimy muscle bound patches of gunk and ick. Glowing like an alien containment pod. She saw herself, pale and panting, grey-skinned and sunken-eyed.

The disturbing sight wasn't enough to distract her from the scuffle. She watched the not-son fight her son and _win_ , possessing him and…and…

 **NO!**

* * *

" _Yes."_

No! No no no no no no no!

" _Yes just as many times."_

How! How to stop… _that_?!

" _We have to leave him be. We have to change. Be…be better."_

How?!

" _This…this place. This bubble. It's supposed to make people stronger. People like us. So…we already can bend reality, right?"_

Stronger…

" _But we don't just need strength. We need…a new us. This…we were given a second chance. A chance to_ _ **do it right**_ _. We_ _ **have**_ _to."_

Do it right.

" _Yes. As one. Not split minds. We have to let go of…a lot of our anger. A lot of our hate. We'll still get after Armacham but…no more indiscriminate murder. We have to get better…then find our son."_

Our son.

" _Yes. The still alive one. That all happened over the course of a few weeks after a year. So we have time. Time to…do whatever we can. To be more."_

Be more.

" _We have to become one again. One…one mind."_

One body.

" _One_ _ **soul**_ _."_

One **purpose.**

" _We are Alma…_

…and this life…

… _ **Is Mine."**_


	3. Alma

**(BGM: Len – Kids in America)**

 _ **Lookin' out a dirty 'ol window.**_

 _ **The while all the cars in the city go-**_

 _ **Rushing by.**_

 _ **I sit here alone and I wonder whyyyyy…**_

Sitting in solitude on the back of a rocking bus, was a young woman. A pair of bright red headphones over her ears, the band looking as if it sat snugly on her skull, her head bobbed to the sounds coming through the speakers. Were any to actually pay her any attention, they would see a woman looking as if her late teens or early twenties, long black hair hiding her face from view.

But could they see her face – and her eyes not closed while listening to the song – they would see a pair of almost glowing blue sky blue eyes on a heart shaped, pale (but not unhealthily so) face with a smattering of almost unnoticeable freckles just underneath the eyes. A small nose, ridge leading to a pair of thin and narrow eyebrows, and pink, pouty lips completed the woman's visage.

At her side was a small, forest green handbag, a black chord leading from inside of it to her headphones. A ruby colored long sleeveless, fluttery dress under a denim jacket was her attire. Though it couldn't be seen from facing her head on, a strange looking, eye-like teardrop shape above four veined leaves trickling down the spine was embroidered onto the back of the jacket.

A pair of black boots reaching to mid-calf, buckles on the outer sides and a zipper on the inner, worn over black stockings adorned her lower half. And around her neck, dangling gently in the V cut of the front of her dress, was a grey pendant on a silver chain, in the shape of a gnarled tree, a small amethyst gem at its core.

The woman was ignored by most all with her on the bus however, which was exactly as she wanted it. Today's excursion was an impulsive trip to the shopping centre a half-hour's bus ride from her apartment. Why? Even she didn't know. She was feeling antsy for some reason, and despite her aversion to people, had a sudden need to go _out_. Thus, she did.

It was hard to believe it had been about a year since her freedom.

The first six months were terribly rough. Spending a lot of her time asleep in whatever nook she could find, her new body, while 'healthy' and 'young' was still taking some getting used to. Her nights were plagued by horrible dreams of the things that had unfolded in the future that would no longer be. Visions of death and horror assaulted her, but over time they began to wane in strength and intensity.

She was beginning to come to terms with the monster she had been, the demon she was going to turn into, if not for…for…

And there was the _other_ problem.

She retained all of her power. If not more of it. It was all she could do for the first week to not _explode_ whatever she focused on for longer than two seconds.

She'd lost more than one sleeping space because of the dead bodies she left behind. Accidentally, for once.

But that came at the price of _not remembering how she learned of the future to come_. She recalled her younger self. She remembered being shown what was going to unfold over the next year. She knew everything except the thing that _gave_ her younger self that information.

It would seem that the cost of her getting a second chance, was the loss of the knowledge of how she attained her premonitions. It…bothered her.

Greatly.

She wanted to remember what gave her the information, so she could better hold onto it. Sure, being able to _live_ finally, was a great gift and even in her persisting homelessness over the first three months of her freedom, it was cherished. She was _outside_ to be homeless. Even if she ended up splattering a few of the _other_ homeless around her…during some of her worse flashbacks.

She felt terrible about it…but had accepted that the common person _didn't care_. They pretended to, but…

Empathetic telepathy was one of her powers. She could pretty much _drink_ the disdain and indifference people felt towards those who were without housing.

She wanted to help. She wanted to make herself useful. But…

After the first few active attempts, she stopped trying. Too many bodies. She didn't have enough _control_ to be able to do the things she actively wanted to.

So the nightmares began to shift, from the non-existent future, to the constant murders of the people she was around. Ultimately after a week of dealing with them, she started finding abandoned buildings to make roost in. Places that were planned for demolition, would suddenly find themselves _not_ destroyed for extra weeks on end, as she let go of her constant struggle to keep her powers as limited as possible.

The almost palpable field of 'stay the fuck away' penetrated even the densest of minds, if only on an instinctual level. But she knew that staying in any one place while radiating her 'scary self' for too long would have someone _stronger_ come looking.

It was during the fourth month that she _felt_ a replica wandering by her resting place.

She hadn't stayed longer than another two days, after that.

In an effort to try to 'be better', she was attempting to avoid as much confrontation as possible. Difficult to do when she didn't have actual control over her powers beyond suppressing them.

Her aversion to people came from that while she could keep her powers under wraps for a while, if she came into physical contact with someone they…

Well they stopped exploding into dripping gore after the second week of her _trying_ to stay calm.

Now, it had diminished into a very painful jolt for both parties, with her suddenly knowing a _lot_ about the person.

She'd learned _far_ more about people's personal lives than she really wanted to. There were some things she would have been happier never knowing about humanity.

Still…it was through those accidents that she discovered something she _could_ do, to improve her situation.

Some people had naturally stronger minds than others. The reasons varied but the results were a person that could withstand her 'presence' in their head for longer than most. She experimented over the course of yet another month, and by month five, she had nearly mastered it.

Trying to 'direct' more than one person though, caused her to risk asploding all of them. Thankfully, nobody died, but there were very risky moments, accompanied by bloody noses and severe migraines. She'd learned to back away slowly, when the symptoms began showing. Too quickly and she risked damaging their minds.

But it was month six that began to change for her.

She'd found a well off business man with a beautiful wife and a rather precocious child.

He was cheating on her with a highschool girl from downtown.

So in a surprising display of control, she slipped downtown just after one of their 'meetings', 'tapped' the teenager, and slipped into the girl's mind. The girl was very much like her, lonely, sad, lost. She was pretty, in a 'standard' kind of way, for a girl barely past seventeen. She would definitely grow up to be a knockout. Which was why the Suit was fooling around with her behind his wife's back.

She didn't care _why_ he was doing it, just that he was. So she slipped into the girl's head, and planted a few thoughts that made her question the relationship. A tweak here and a poke there and over the course of two weeks the girl's self-esteem blossomed and the girl no longer sought out the touch of such a sleaze.

 _She_ however, then followed the Suit, and tapped _his_ brain.

She didn't go gently either. She had a very…unhappy response to older men manipulating younger girls.

The man who called himself her father, learned that the moment he died.

The pain, while intense, wasn't worse than waking up with a hangover. She needed him alive after all. Seeing how happily he spent his money on presents for his wife to keep her unknowing of his adultery, she tweaked his own mind to replacing her with the schoolgirl. She enthralled him into making a bank account for her at a local branch, and then had him paying her a decent sum as 'consultant fees'.

Letting her sadistic side out a little, she tweaked and tweaked, while draining his mind of information on how to _be_ , in modern times. Phone usage, computer usage, internet lingo, everything he knew about interacting with people in the current time, she drank from him like a sponge. And the more she took, the more he needed her.

' _ **Be Better!'**_

Still, she didn't just _take_. During month seven, she began silently sending his wife anonymous information about his adultery. She sent pictures of the highschool girl (with friends mind you, nothing _creepy_ ) and had him sending her transaction history of the gifts he'd bought both of them, and the days he bought them on, before twisting his mind into believing it was just a very vivid dream.

The Wife was furious, but with a bit of coaching (and a quick tap into the woman's mind to dampen the rage) she led the older woman into just quietly leaving him. By month eight, the Suit was divorced, with the wife silently doing so because of his infidelity, while he was twisted to simply believe he'd be better off focusing on his work.

As month Nine rolled around, she had now found herself living in a small but decently furnished apartment, with rent and utilities paid for by her 'consultant job' for a man whose life she…well, she didn't _ruin_ it. He was ruining it himself. She'd effectively _helped_ the blighter. While some of it was falsified by her powers, he was actually _happier_ single. The Ex-Wife had been convinced not to lambast his actions in public forum, and go with the lie that it was a mutual decision. The daughter, only having turned three, was not aware of why papa wasn't allowed near her anymore, but with the settlement package they'd agreed on, would grow up (hopefully) just fine.

Month ten brought a tickle in the back of her mind. An awareness of someone she'd been…not so much cut off from, but had limited interaction with. She knew what it was, on instinct, and knew not to pursue it. Or rather, she'd learned.

Every time she 'tapped' someone, be it intentionally or un, she noticed that not long after, usually within at most a day, one or two well disguised replicas would be felt in the area it happened. After noticing the pattern, her aversion to people grew, and she came to barely leave her apartment for anything other than slipping out to reinforce her hold on the Suit, whose name she purposefully forgot.

He was a tool. He had everything she would have wanted in life, and threw it away because he wanted the 'taste of a younger girl'.

She refused to go any deeper, not wanting to find out just how young 'young' was allowed to be for him.

Thus, the last few months had found her isolating herself from personal interaction. Well, as much as she could. She needed food after all, and didn't want the actual association with the Suit, so she would make occasional trips to the nearby pizza place on the days she didn't want to drag home a bunch of groceries.

' _ **Be Better!'**_

Even so, she kept her new home fairly tidy, and refused to allow the trash to get _too_ out of control. It wasn't laziness or even lack of motivation. She _was_ still fairly depressed; a year of freedom would not undo the fourty she was trapped in her own darkness. It was fear of being attacked before she could…well…gain any sort of handle on her powers. She couldn't go _searching_ for anyone, let alone her son, when ATC was still at large, and could apparently track her signature.

Honestly, she'd come to reason that the impulse to get out and go to the Mall was likely because some part of her wanted to do more 'research' on her powers.

After seeing the flicker of a cartoon in the mind of the teenager, she'd looked around for more information and found what could possibly be a gold mine.

Downside is, she needed to be certain not only would the experiments bare any fruit of _any_ nature, but wouldn't put…

She was trying to be better. She didn't care about people. She really didn't. They were tools to her at best, and just annoying meatbags otherwise. But she wouldn't be displaying 'betterness' if she just allowed her mistakes to be the end of unrelated persons.

She was fine with death and murder. It was what she was good at. But in the interest of becoming a better person – or rather a _person_ at all – she was _trying_ to not cause the deaths of people she just happened to be around.

Her nightmares had slowed dramatically, one every couple of weeks now. She didn't want to disrupt that balance she found.

So she spent most of her time browsing the internet, listening to the music she'd missed out on while in that tank. Or dead. Mostly dead. Some of the music she recognized, as a few particularly guilt-ridden or kind-hearted (she couldn't tell which) individuals would sometimes flood her vault with some of the more popular songs of the time.

But she'd made this trip enough times that it was second nature to her. It was one of _their_ favorite meeting spots after all. So she became well acquainted with the shops and their contents. Still…

She hadn't been paying attention.

Though long since off the bus and into the Centre proper, she had been relying more on her subtle field of 'don't come near me' to navigate the throngs of humanity one encountered commonly in Malls.

Thus, she was taken by surprise, when she bodily ran into someone, hand grazing their arm as the two of them bounced off each other.

A jolt ran up her spine.

Her vision was taken from her.

And for a few seconds all she could see…

Was a very familiar tree.

Underneath a twilight sky.

No pain.

No buffeting of mind.

No _rejection_.

Just peace.

Tranquility.

 **A sense of home.**

She snapped out of it in time to see a man get to his feet and reach out to her. Before she could catch herself, she had lifted her arm to be helped up.

Yet the instant before his hand grasped hers, a sense of ironic timing occurred.

As just before her headphones were shaken off her ears, the next song began to play.

 _ **What is love?**_

 _ **Lady don't hurt me…**_

 _ **Don't hurt me…**_

 _ **No more.**_

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 02 –** _ **Alma**_

 _Crowded as always._

Coming to the Mall alone was never really his favorite thing to do. Doubly so since he (still) didn't have a car. The bus ride wasn't _terrible_ but given that it took about an hour to get to the stop nearest to the Mall, which was three blocks away, and didn't even take him right there…

Worse was since it was a _bus_ he couldn't just leave whatever he was getting behind and drop into a fast food place or anything. If he was going to the Mall, it was a day of it, and by the time he was done, _fuck_ being outside.

The music helped but…the weather was getting warmer by the week, and soon summer would be in full swing. Being on the east coast of America, it didn't help that summers were getting hotter as the years went on.

Come to think of it, he didn't have a _pool_ either.

 _The lake's not gonna do it soon. More people are starting to fish there now. Dammit. Gonna need to figure out how to get a pool set up._

But a pool was the last thing on his mind right now. It wasn't why he was here.

He was here, for a gift.

It was a common sight to see a decently dressed man walking into a lingerie store. He was young looking, sure, and some of the sales clerks gave a sigh of faint irritation when he'd entered. He looked young enough to be in the later years of highschool but he actually wasn't.

A full adult, he was. He just had recently shaved is all.

The woman at the register eyed him like a hawk as he'd browsed the various garments, holding up bras on their hooks to the light, tilting his head this way and that, flipping over tags and making various faces. Externally she was stoic, while internally she was questioning every move he made.

It was actually funny, to see some of his expressions.

Still she'd subtly signaled the younger clerk to go to him. The older blonde watched the newer hire (a rather snarky brunette with a small sapphire stud on her left nostril. Sweet girl with a sharp tongue) slip over to the young man who was now blinking rapidly while gently tugging the band on a pair of lace pink panties, shaking his head while thumbing the material.

"Can I help you with anything today?"

She was a part-timer, her main job being a few stores down in a tech repair shop that was temporarily closed for a month's renovations.

He looked up and blinked at her.

"Only with a question that would probably way too personal to ask."

She blinked back shrugged and told him to go for it.

"How the _hell_ do you ladies _wear_ this stuff? The material feels like I'd get a damn rash if I wore it longer than twenty minutes."

A soft snrkt of a chuckle came from the older blonde, while the younger brunette flat out cackled.

* * *

In the end he just decided to get a hundred dollar gift card from the place. He'd looked and looked and found a few things that he thought she'd like, and some that he knew he'd not mind seeing on her, but ultimately though he knew her body quite well, he submit to the knowledge that _none of it made sense_.

That and while he never saw it, he _remembered_ the movie 'Enemy of the State.'

No way in hell was he gonna get caught up in some government bullshit just for trying to buy a bra for a girl what wasn't even his girlfriend.

Because she wasn't. She was a girl, and she was a friend, and…yes, they'd had sex a few times but their relationship was closer to that of mutual tutors. There was no 'romance' there. No longing drive or need to be around the other for extended periods of time.

…ok that was kind of a lie. _She_ needed sometimes to be around him at length. But that was due to something completely unrelated to romance.

Still, her birthday was coming up, and she'd been offhandedly complaining about having nothing that 'felt nice' to wear. So being the douchebag he is, he decided to take a trip to the mall and see if he could find anything _sexy_ for her.

He'd fully admit she probably meant a more comfortable pair of pants or a better fitted bra or hell even a softer pair of shoes. But he was a dick, he knew it, she knew it, and his dickishness manifested itself in genie-like tendencies. He would do you a favor, but not exactly how you thought of it being done.

More often than not she'd give an exasperated sigh at the results of his actions. She'd get what she wanted, but not how.

Honestly he only did it with her, really. And they both knew why. She'd just stare deadpan at him, and he'd grin like a loon.

But still, he'd spent a half hour at the damn place, got a few laughs out of the ladies working the store (acting like a typical confused man for laughs had ended up brightening both of their day, it was slow on a Tuesday afternoon) and then gotten the gift card deciding to let _her_ decide what she wanted from the damn place.

Women's bodies changed far too consistently at random for him to really properly judge what would fit right, and the whole purpose was to find something _comfortable_ anyway. Let the mistresses of their own forms figure it out, he'd just give her the means to do so.

That said, he'd done a dumb, while trying to figure out if he wanted to grab lunch or not, and was looking at his phone when the impact happened.

The both of them bounced off the other, the pain of falling on his back blocking anything else out. He loosed a blank "ow", groaned while standing up, and offered his hand to the woman he'd been repelled off of.

She'd barely gotten out a "no wai-

Before he'd grasped her arm and pulled her up, only to rapidly let go and start violently shaking his hand.

All due to the extremely _sharp_ jolt of burning shock that had raced through his right hand.

* * *

"No wai-

Static.

The tree.

A twilight sky.

A sound of crashing waves.

Morning?

Evening?

A distant tower.

 _Calm_.

A gentle breeze.

Grass and flowers. A soft hill. A dangling swing.

Suddenly back to the Mall.

She was blinking rapidly, trying her hardest to understand what she'd just seen. It was still there. Not directly in front of her eyes anymore but softly, like an echo, in the back of her mind. She was still _there_.

He was shaking his hand, harshly.

"I-

"Gah mother…friggin…static bolts…knew I shouldn't have worn these socks."

…he wasn't rejecting her.

He wasn't _rejecting_ her.

He wasn't. _Rejecting._ **Her.**

She couldn't go any deeper but she wasn't being rejected it was only as if…as if there was no path forward for her. As if that was where she was and that was as far as she could go. Not closed not blocked not _rejecting_ but simply _not there_.

"Sorry about that, are you alright miss?"

Her eyes widened, staring at his hand. She rushed forward, grabbing it in both of hers, to his surprise.

The tree.

A twilight Sky.

A sound of crashing waves.

No pain.

No jolt.

A sudden transition but not a _jarring_ one.

The scene of the Mall bled into the scene of her tree on the small hill in a…box?

There was a drop. An edge. Lined with stone.

The air was filled with petals.

The mall returned as she forced herself to let go.

"Uhh…miss are you alright?"

Her eyes locked onto his.

 _He wasn't rejecting her._

She wanted to grab him and never let go. To hold on and push the two of them back to her apartment and jump on him and hold him down and-

' _ **Be Better!'**_

Fuck.

It was hard.

It was so, _so_ hard.

Tears welled up in her eyes. His brown ones became tinted with concern.

 _ **Oh god what did I do what the hell is going on here who is this girl and how did I make her cry without saying anything?**_

"n-no! No it's fine." She whispered to him, trying to hold herself back.

"I…there's…I don't know how to say this." She spoke, haltingly, trying not to draw too much attention to them.

She didn't know how she knew but he _really_ didn't want people to be getting up in his-their business.

No.

She knew how she knew.

She was just afraid of acknowledging it.

"Can…can we go…somewhere and sit? I…"

He nodded, still worried. _Worried!_ For _her!_ It was wrapped in confusion and concern and a small hint of suspicion but it was there!

It was taking everything she had not to try to shove her body into his. You read that right.

Still, she jolted forward again, grabbing his hand.

The tree.

A gentle sound of crashing waves.

She didn't go as far into the vision as she had previously, but she let it color her view.

"Uhh…"

"Please…" she choked out. The tears were still in her eyes, but she was giving a sad smile.

"Just…please. It's…it's crazy but..."

She needed this. She needed _this much_ at least.

"Please don't let go."


	4. Acquaintance

The two had proceeded onwards. Deciding to go ahead and grab lunch, he walked them to the food court. Feeling like meat, he led the young woman to the Wendy's, glad to see there wasn't a line, for once. The walk over, the woman next to him had been clinging to his hand, a sad, soft smile on her face, almost gliding along as he wove around the people impeding their path.

She was always a half step behind him, expertly following his every move even though her head was bowed, sight obscured by her hair. She was as if his shadow, matching him step for step, silently.

She had quietly ordered a shake and some fries, calmly (shocking) denying his attempts to pay for her as well.

She was already taking up his time and personal space, she'd stated. She wouldn't (yet) take his money as well.

Not when he was literally granting her the strongest wish in her heart since she was a child.

However, as they sat opposite to each other, she'd reluctantly let go of his hand. The waves faded beneath the sound of hundreds of voices and jaunty tunes of various shops. The breeze vanished into a dry cool air from industrial sized air conditioners. The feeling of peace and tranquility overtaken by the blinking minds of the many around them.

It was…very noticeable now. The difference between being within his mind and being out of it.

She hated it.

But she was intent on being better. On not being selfish. On not shoving her problems onto some stranger that she hadn't even properly introduced herself to yet.

But she was nervous and jittery. She focused on the faint sound of waves, noticing they got louder.

 _ **Ok so how do I get this started. I got a cute girl in front of me who's acting a little deranged but nothing I don't think I can handle and-**_

"Sorry." She spoke suddenly.

He was right. She _was_ acting deranged.

"eh?"

"I am. Deranged. A little. I'm…right. Sorry. I'm doing this all wrong."

A black eyebrow raised.

She giggled nervously. He thought she was cute. She thought he was too. Milk chocolate skin, a soft fuzz around his chin and upper neck, dark brown eyes, black hair to his shoulders, a strong looking jaw, a mind filled with flowers and waves and twinkling stars and-

"God I want your babies." She sighed out wistfully.

His head jerked back just as he was about to take a bite of his baconator, a wild surprised look on his face.

 _ **WHATTHESHIT**_

Oh she was _mortified_. Her own eyes widened drastically as her hands slapped to her mouth, red bursting along her cheeks as she squealed in embarrassment. The feeling of very alarmed confusion combined with the honestly comical shock on his face made the blush deepen as the red creeped down her neck. She wrenched her eyes shut and slammed her head on the table with a low groan.

"aaawunsustamout"

"What?!"

She groaned again pulling at her hair trying to turn it into a blanket to hide under but slowly spoke a second time.

"That wasn't supposed to come out like that."

"But you were still _thinking_ it!"

"Sorryyyy…"

"Context please?!"

"I'm psychic!" she blurted out.

 _ **I mean you suddenly blarg to a stranger that you want to have their children yeah that fits psycho pretty well-**_

"No! No no no not psych _o_ , psych _ic_. Mind…stuff."

He blinked, the alarm and shock fading from his face.

"Mind stuff."

She nodded, still embarrassed.

"What kind of mind stuff are we talking here?"

Her head snapped up.

"You…believe me?"

"I didn't say anything about you being psycho. And at the moment, your…obvious embarrassment needs to be dealt with so…continue."

"I… _fuck me._ " She whispered, longingly. This time he only blinked. She stiffened and slapped her forehead. "I did it again."

"You…have no filter huh?"

She shook her head. "Wade. Alma. Name."

"Wade Alma?"

Her nose scrunched as she mentally berated herself. "Backwards. Sorry."

"Alma."

She nodded. "Psychic. Really, _really_ powerful." She continued.

"How powerful're we talking here?" he queried after swallowing a bite.

She was focusing on the waves. It was the only thing she could do to keep herself from _spewing like a friggin moron_.

"I…uhh…do you know X-Men?"

"Quite. So are we talking Professor Xavier…Emma Frost…? Jean Grey?"

"…phoenix…actually. Uhh…well… _Dark_ Phoenix…more like."

 _ **FUCK.**_

She winced at the shockingly loud thought. Seriously it echoed in her mental ears as if it were a deep bass coming from a gigantic speaker. While externally he'd only sat straighter, putting his burger down.

"…that's…quite the claim."

"It's true though." She began to ramble. "I've been empathetic since I was a child and then that spread into telepathy which I couldn't control and then telekinesis which I used to be able to but then it got so strong that by the time I was seven people needed to be wearing specially designed hazmat suits just to be near me without being turned into goop and then I started being able to set things on fire and then they locked me up and I've been lonely ever since and I just got out a year ago and I _still_ can't control it very well and when I touch people they get hurt and I see inside their heads but for some reason that didn't happen with you I mean it hurt for like a split second but then I was just _there_ and its calm and peaceful and my tree is there for some reason you _didn't reject me_ and-

"Whoa whoa whoa, easy…"

She clammed up.

"You can't control it?"

 _ **Keep her focused kid. Infodumps are nice but its too scattered.**_

She shook her head. "Not…not anymore. The…the thing that got me out of the…isolation place…not long after something happened that practically doubled my powers. Even…even before that it was less control and more…things happened in a general manner as to what I wanted."

"Ok…goop?"

"I…my…telesthetic field is powerful enough to…to rip things apart."

His eyebrows rose at that.

 _ **Yeah that's…getting to Phoenix levels…**_

"And you say you're also pyrokinetic?"

"I haven't even begun to _try_ to test that one…but its there."

 _ **Damn.**_

"Dark Phoenix indeed."

She nodded again.

He was about to take another bite of his burger, digesting the information she'd spewed out when it hit him.

"Wait so...you're in my head. Right now."

"Yes."

"…prove it."

"How do you want me to do that."

"I think something, you say it."

"Ok."

So for the next two minutes, he did. He focused on a multitude of various gibberish thoughts. Junk data. Spam mentality. The type of annoying bullshit that people with hyper-active minds and cases of insomnia and plenty of anxiety have. Invasive, pointless, irritating.

But more importantly, so did **she.**

"Forty-two."

"Sixty-nine."

"RRTANGENTABACUS."

"Up up down down left right left right B A start."

"There's an image of a red dinosaur thing with a black hazard sign on its white chest that you're calling 'Guilmon'."

"A…strange looking S shaped lizard-no wait you're saying it's a dragon; with a single big human arm sticking out of its side that your mind is classifying as 'Trogdor the Burninator'."

"I am gay, gay, gay, I like long big cocks, I'm a super super gay, I like long big cocks."

"Uhh…Tenkou mitsukuru tokoro ware wa ari. Yomi no mon hiraku tokoro nanchi ari. Ide yo, kami no ikazuchi. Kore de saigo da. Indignation."

"Kiafa hynne mea, pagle tes yor."

"Banana. Lock On. Come on. Banana arms. Knight of speaaar."

He stopped her after that.

 _ **She even copied the damn tonal inflections right.**_

"…well shit."

* * *

Having proved her claim of at least telepathy, which was more than enough for him, she continued on.

"I touch people and we both get hurt. They get hurt more than me. And then…I'm in their heads. I just _know_ things. If I stay too long, like, a minute, they start getting a headache. Longer than that, their nose starts bleeding. If I try to _look_ for something it speeds up the process."

"But I feel fine."

"And that's…that's why…"

She was fidgeting in her seat. He'd finished his food and had wiped his hands off, but was watching her carefully. The issue was, he wasn't _thinking_ anything so she couldn't get a proper read on him and it was making her nervous. But still, he noticed her twitching movements and decided to try something.

 _ **Alright gross plan time.**_

The sudden thought rushing through her head confused her.

And then he laid his hand on the table, palm facing up. She stared at it.

He stared at her. She looked into his eyes, confused, nervous.

He gave a humored exasperated huff and flicked his fingers in a 'come here motion'.

Quickly her left hand lashed out and grabbed his…

And then he watched, amazed, as all the tension left her body. A few tears rolled down her cheeks, the sad smile came back, but she _looked_ like she had just…deflated.

"That's not normal for you, is it?"

He asked softly. Still loud enough to be heard over the din of humanity, but soft enough that it didn't…disrupt whatever calm had washed over her.

"No. Not at all. My empathy is more attuned to negative emotions. But even without that…I haven't been able to touch someone without them melting at worst, being burned at best, for…years."

"Why me?"

"I don't know. When we ran into each other I was pulled into your head like I was everyone else but…there was no…ok. I…non-psychics…have resistance. Not as much as a psychic would, but they resist. They reject. I don't know why or how, I wasn't…really shown any of the research that was done on me just had it happen."

She sighed but continued. Drowning herself in the calm waves.

"Everyone, _everyone_ rejected me. I don't know if its just a natural reflex or if it's something done because I'm a foreign entity or what, but they _reject_. And it hurts both of us. Them more because my power just…drills into their head. That's what causes the nosebleeds and the headaches and the nightmares. But you…when we touched, I was pulled in, but there was no resistance. It was like a…curtain, as opposed to shoving a big heavy door open."

"That's…interesting."

"That's not the most amazing bit though. You…in your head is my tree."

 _ **There's a sex joke in there somewhere.**_

"Your tree?"

"The…the one solid piece of happy I have. It's my safe space. The only good thing from my childhood. When I slipped into your mind, my tree was there. Swing and everything."

"Like an anchor point."

"Yes, exactly."

"And…but wait you don't put it there when you-

"No. I would need continued contact for a while, risking the side effects, before I could slip in and out at range. And my tree was never there. Not a hint of it. But for some reason, it's there in your head. And…going in and out is easy. I just…the thing is I can't go _deeper_."

"What do you mean."

"I can't do anything more than be there. Literally. I can't read you like everyone else. I only get what's in your head if it passes through the front."

"Eh?"

"I'm sorry…but I've been trying to get you to _do_ things for the past two minutes."

 _ **You wot?**_

She shook her head. "Little, subtle manipulations. Nothing big!" she exclaimed as she felt the muscles in his hand tense to pull away.

"L-Little things! Like…trying to tell you your nose itches or trying to get you to twitch a specific finger or getting you to scratch your leg or something. Small, meaningless things, things that you'd naturally do on your own if the feeling came but _nothing works_!"

He just stared at her.

"I can't _bend_ you, like the others. Even the stronger minds would bend after a while but we've been holding hands for over a minute and I'm _drowning happily_ in the sound of waves and I'm trying to _poke_ you but you're not responding at all! It's like…you're more than resistant you're immune! It's _incredible_!"

She had a…

He'd thought, for a second.

She didn't hear the thought but the sound of waves was disturbed for just a second by a low growl in the distance.

He'd thought of trying to reject her. She wouldn't blame him for it. She didn't.

It was truly, the genuinely innocent, almost _radiant_ smile on her face when she made that last statement, that he banished the impulse.

She was trying to control him. But not. Not for anything other than to try to experiment, test her powers on someone who had suddenly become a variable in a sea of constants.

There was no malice nor negative intent in it. Curiosity, at best.

"You can control people?"

"Not…easily. And not too many at once in _any_ capacity because otherwise the strain on them all magnifies…but…"

She trailed off, and nodded, bowing her head.

"…are you still controlling someone?"

A gentle nod.

"…who."

So she told him.

About the Suit.

His adultery, the target of his 'affections', how she'd taken over and guided his wife away from him. How she's living off of his and other men like him's dollar. How she was homeless for a while and used That Man to her advantage. How she was trying to 'be better' and not just let loose and blast away.

"I know…it's not good. I know it's…matching a wrong for a wrong but-

"Alma."

She froze. First time he said her name.

"It's alright."

 _ **Tch I mean shit I'd probably do the same damn thing to the prick.**_

The tears came back.

He didn't hate her.

He didn't reject her.

What she was doing was still wrong but it was a wrong to right another wrong and the only victim was the one who was doing the initial wrong and even _he_ was happier from her actions.

He understood.

He accepted her.

"I _really_ want you inside me."

She stiffened as once again she blurted out what was a very…not social thought. She was treated to a brief (but oh so welcome) flash of an image of a fleeting thought of her, on her knees with him in her mouth (something she was _very_ pleased to see despite the briefness of the picture) before it faded and he just gave his response.

"I'm gonna let that one go."

She just merely re-acquainted her head with the table, while he chuckled away.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 03:** _ **Acquaintance**_

The feeling was getting worse.

Being out in public, she tried to hide the shortness of breath. Her heart was pounding uncontrollably. Her limbs were trembling, her vision swimming.

She was afraid.

No. More than that.

She was _terrified._

It was taking all of her focus not to trip over her own two feet.

The vision had hit her again. Fourth time in just as many days. Her Sight usually didn't react like this, even to major changes. Even on the day her life failed to end, it wasn't so jarring a view. But maybe that was because back then, she didn't care.

It was just her luck that her phone was dead. The battery out of power, last vestiges of strength fading only half an hour prior. She knew she should have charged it overnight but…

She hadn't been sleeping well lately. Understandable considering the visions she kept having.

Another wave of a headache washed over her. She must have looked _horrible_. The eyeshadow she wore doing little to hide the dark bags under her eyes. Her hair was limp and frayed, her gait staggered as her back was hunched over.

Not two years ago she was considered one of the most beautiful in school. Now…

Well it wasn't like she'd _lost_ that beauty. Merely that at this moment, she looked a fright. Her usual standards of appearance being thrown aside due to the days of building terror.

Still…

She stumbled to a stop, right outside a pair of glass doors. A big, marble building before her.

The Library would be good enough. She would charge her phone, and do the thing she should have done the second she first had that vision.

 _He will be disappointed in me…_

But _He_ would still be alive…

Hopefully.

She blew her ocean blue hair out of her face, and pushed on. She'd already made one mistake. She refused to make another.

 _Not knowing…is scary…_

* * *

The two had spent another half-hour just walking around. Alma had been content just to simply hold his hand, listening to the sound of the lapping waves, feeling the phantom breeze on her face. The tears had all but dried, and now she was merely walking with a serene smile on her face.

 _Seth_ on the other hand was still a little wary, but open to the girl. He couldn't not be. She was apparently in his head, after all. The idea…it bothered him. She knew it and accepted it. He wasn't the most private of people, he'd admit, but he liked having choice. He liked giving choice. That his choice of having her in his mind was taken from him…

Well…

At least, he understood that it wasn't entirely Alma's desire either. She was only better off because somehow his mind had become a safe space for her. He honestly felt no intrusion, no nothing from her being there. No weight or drain or damage or even hint of her presence. She was just there, and if she hadn't told him, he wouldn't have any idea.

That bothered him as well, but at the same time, given her explanation of the usual side effects, he'd rather have taken her silent presence over suddenly having a brain aneurism.

In the end, they sat down on a bench overlooking a two-storey fountain in the center of the Mall. The design was lavish and elaborate. A tall column of black speckled marble at its center, the upper column having four statues of women with small feathered looking wings, all holding jugs tilted outwards, pouring their contents into the ring below. Laurel crowns woven into their hair, the statues carved expertly to look like they were simply angels preparing a bath.

The lower ring, on the bottom floor, had a similar design, only with tall, chiseled-bodied men holding the jugs rather than the robed women. The men held no wings, but the same laurel wreaths on their heads, as the waters flowed past their feet. Wrapped around the column were multitudes of vines and ivy, some with small budding blossoms creeping between the leaves. It was a beautiful sight, and the sound of the rushing waters just added to Alma's unknowing meditations.

"So what's it like in there?"

The sudden question snapped the psychic out of her vision, drawing her back (mostly) to reality.

"Hmm?" she turned unfocused eyes to him, slowly fading back into normal space.

"My head. What's it like?"

"Calm." Was the immediate answer. "The sky is a mixture of violets and blues. There's bright, twinkling stars, and strange black petals in the air. My tree is on what I think is a floating island but I can't see beneath, there's a weird haze below but I can hear rushing water and rolling waves. There's a soft breeze in the air and that's carrying the petals and off in the distance is some kind of structure but I can't make out what it is. Sometimes the stars will dim and this…pulse will seem to race through the sky, and when it happens I can see strange colorful veiny ripples like a jewel but then it goes back to normal."

 _ **Wait like Al'taieu?**_

"What's that?" She asked.

"What's what?"

"Al'taieu. What's that?"

"Right…forgot you could hear my thoughts. Wait how's that work anyway?"

She shrugged. "With everyone else it feels like I just _know_. Like I never didn't know what they knew. With you…strong thoughts are…kind of spoken, I guess. I don't _know_ them, I _hear_ them. Like I'm learning them the exact same time you are."

"So it's constant?"

She shook her head. "No…it seems to so far only be things that you think but have no direct intention of saying. The pattern with it that I've noticed is that if you think it but aren't going to say it, it's instead, spoken in your head. But if you're going to say it, I only barely get a faint impression that something is about to be said, but not what."

"Huh. That's interesting. And that only happens with me?"

"So far, yeah."

"So it's not a conscious thing on your end."

"With you it isn't. I tried to go deeper a few times but…again, it's not that I'm being rejected or stopped, it just feels like there's nothing more there."

"Hmm…"

 _ **So she can't go any further into my mind to see what's buried within? I guess that's a good thing. Not that I have that many secrets or anything but still. Wonder why that happens how it does though. If she's got a direct line to my mental core, and my inner mind seems to be like some kind of Al'taieu-esque dimension for her then…**_

She just sat there, letting his thoughts wash over her.

 _ **She said something about a tree. Her tree. Her tree which doesn't exist in anyone else's head but mine. If she's telling the truth, which honestly it seems like she is, then that's the outlying difference between me and anyone else she's connected with. Like parting a curtain as opposed to pushing open a door? So that means either my mind is laughably weak, or…**_

"Strong minds and weak minds alike have been broken by me, Seth. Sometimes I had to nudge, sometimes it just tore right through. But every mind other than yours, I had to fight. I don't think it's a case of strength versus weakness. There's something special about you that let me in."

He jumped slightly, turning his head to her.

"Fuck. You heard all that then?"

She smiled softly and nodded, squeezing his hand. "Don't worry about it. I've spent…years and years hearing the thoughts and feeling the emotions of hundreds of people. And not good ones either. Mostly bad ones. Your thoughts…I could listen to you all day and not get bored."

 _ **I want to ask but now probably isn't the time. Given that she was practically bawling the second we established this weird link that's probably some heavy shit. Would need ice cream for that one. And privacy.**_

"Pretty much."

"Agh dammit."

She just smiled wider. "Like I said, don't worry about it. Just think what you want. Don't…"

The smile faded a little and she bowed her head. "Don't change yourself just because I'm in there. Neither of us asked for this even though I really couldn't be happier right now. I know I'm an intruder and I'm pretty much taking away all of your privacy but…"

Something in her felt…odd. It was like a pit opened up in her chest. A…sense of fear and anxiety. And yet…

There was a _fire_ in it. A raging, burning need. A desire beyond want itself.

The _last_ time she felt that, was just before she woke up in a younger body.

"…I…want all of you. As you are. I don't know you. I _can't_ know you. That's the…the surprising part. You're the second person in my whole life that I couldn't instantly know. And the first was…completely different circumstances. But that's what makes this so special for me. I _can't_ just simply dip into your head and know who you are. I have to _learn_. I told you, I'm not good with people. I don't know how to be normal. Hell I don't even know how to be _strange_."

She was looking directly into his eyes. And for once, _not_ submerging herself in the waters.

"I've done terrible things. You're right, my life is heavy shit. And this isn't the place to get into it but I _am_ a monster. But I've been trying for the past year to learn how to _not_ be a monster. And you're the key. You…in these last two hours, have done more for me just by _being here_ than anyone else has my entire life, since my powers came in. I grew up isolated, I grew up scared, I grew up alone and sick and twisted and surrounded by hatred and anger and constant nightmares. But you…"

She shook her head.

"You make it feel like all of those things happened to someone else. I'm desperate. I've _been_ desperate. But you're like…like…"

 _ **You're like free pizza at an anime convention. She can smell you. And she wants to consume you.**_

"You're like an unlimited supply of pizza and nachos during a…a football game."

 _ **But last I checked my dick doesn't taste like chocolate though.**_

A strange glint appeared in her eyes.

"If you think _that_ is going to stop me from sucking your dick right here and now you've got another thing coming, mister."

"Wait what."

Despite her _literally roaring hormones_ she restrained her _burning impulses_ and only jokingly made to reach for his zipper with her free hand. _His_ free hand, however, raced out to catch hers.

And then it **hit**.

* * *

 **(BGM: Final Fantasy XIII-2 – Labrynth of Chaos)**

Her tree. Atop a small hill.

A field of green grass. Small flowers blooming interseeded, barely higher than the blades themselves.

The sound of crashing waves. Fading away into the melody of a gently streaming river.

A gentle breeze. Growing into a powerful but still calming spring gale.

A twilight sky. Colorful veins like refractions of a glimmering prism streaking in between sparkles of shimmering starlight.

A sea of petals. Scattered through the air but not as dense enough to obscure vision. Transparent. Faded. Like flakes of snow, only fluttering every which way.

A distant object. Tall. A tower made of obsidian on the horizon. Sparkling lights barely noticeable around it, each one a specific of six different colors.

The edge of her 'island'. A _world_ below.

Hundreds of shimmering trees. Flowers made of soft looking crystal. Leaves fluttering in the winds and jingling like ringing chimes. Pale grey and lavender hued vines wrapping around faintly glowing stone.

A multitude of individual 'boxes'. Perfectly cut geometrical shapes containing wide fields of glimmering flowers, trees, floating petals and strange box-like lights. Streaks of color would slowly creep along the stones like glowing blood through veins.

A strange gazebo-like structure. Six person sized columns of grey stone arranged in a hexagonal pattern surrounding a central seventh. The 'roof' shaped like a half-dome, made from lavender and rose tinted marble. The floating petals seemed to flow around the structure, never leaving proof of themselves on its slightly glowing floor.

A crystal clear river. Waters flowing in between the 'boxes' of flowers and trees. Some straight lines, others curving into ringed moats around individual mounds for crystalline bark.

A pale grey moon. Though eternally night, the world was well illuminated by the rays of light coming from the distant object. An ethereal feeling of calm and tranquility.

A large, obsidian gate. As tall as a two storey house. Its doors made from bars in the shape of swords. At its top most arch, a large, seafoam green diamond. _Cracked_ ever so slightly. Yet from the cracks came a gentle flow of misty light colored of blood.

Marble pathways. Where there weren't rivers of flowing water were walkways of stone. Some led into caves by expertly cut stairs, others spiraled down into valleys between cradles of life.

A giant black flower. At the center of the landscape, it loomed. It cast no shadow, as if it were an illusion, yet it seemed to be made of one. Its petals in the shape of an iris blossom's, a strange, almost mirage like hue around them, giving the appearance of a sharp blade. Stranger still, the petals seemed to be rotating slowly, like blades of a fan. Barely noticeable; beneath the flower's stem were a multitude of faintly glowing silver chains, burrowing into the ground. A passing glance told that the chains vanished into the dirt below, transforming into the soft lights connecting the cradles where rivers did not.

A **massive** crystal. Seemingly made of the very idea of **onyx** itself. Floating just above and between the gigantic iris made of shadow. To look at it was the _only_ thing that hurt. As if the eyes were trying to see beyond infinity. It was not rejection nor condemnation of vision, but merely deconstruction of observation.

But most importantly. Beyond the sound of _song_ ringing in her ears, was the feeling of **completion**.

She felt like she was _home_ before.

But now…

Now it felt like she _belonged_.

* * *

It took two seconds since their hands met, for him to realize something was wrong.

Nothing outward told him so. No warning or alert or anything of that nature. Her eyes went unfocused, as they tended to do (he'd assumed that was when she was focusing on being in his head) but there was something…different.

In the two more seconds it took for him to turn his head to make sure nothing was behind him – seeing as he was wondering if she had been looking at something beyond _him_ and was watching something unfold that he couldn't see – when he turned back, her eyes were back to normal.

And she was crying yet again.

 _This_ time however, she failed to hold back her impulses, and threw herself into his arms, sobbing.

She squeezed him.

And yet there was _still_ no cessation of materialization of his physical body.

Just a mild discomfort of having a waif of a girl squeezing your torso with all her might.

Of course, that's _exactly_ when it all went to shit.


	5. Altercation

His head hurt.

"Rise and shine sleepyhead."

A groan rumbled from his throat. Everything hurt.

"Come on, Bucket. Get your fat ass off the ground."

"fuck…you…too…redd…" came the instinctive response.

And then suddenly his eyes snapped open. Something shot through him, unexplainable. A burst of vitality beyond knowledge.

"Wait. Redd?!"

That should have been impossible. Redd Jankowsky was…

"What should I call you Corpse-Fucker instead?"

"That's enough Redd." Came a second familiar voice.

Clamoring to his feet, the man stared at the group of people in front of him.

"…Top? …Guys…?"

Somehow, James Fox, Cedric Griffin, Redd Jankowsky, and Harold Keegan were all standing together with him, in a wide open field of tall green grass swaying in a calm breeze, under a spring sky. All of them still wearing what they were the moment they died, but none of them looking any worse for wear.

"What…how…"

"Hell if I know." Responded Griffin. "Last thing I remember is…"

" _The other me murdering the everloving fuck out of you."_

All of them jumped, startled at the soft voice. They turned to their collective left where –

"Alma…"

Unabidden, Keegan trotted over to the girl's side before anyone could stop him.

" _You're still doing that? And here I thought you'd be set free properly. I must have messed something up in the extraction."_ The child had a cute frown on her face, nose scrunched in annoyance. _"I guess it can't be helped. Sit, Harold."_

Silently, the man dropped to his rear.

" _I see. Anything I say will sound like a command. Sorry about that. She was in Siren mode and…well, I didn't wake up until she was trying to eat Michael alive with her lower mouth, dry as it was."_

"Whoa whoa whoa who the hell are you and how do you know that?" Cut in Jankowski.

" _For the first, I'm the reason all of you save Michael are dead. …or rather, the other me is. For the second…same reason."_

"You're-

" _A damaged little girl in the body of a revived corpse, running off of rage and hatred tinted with loneliness. I won't excuse what She did, and I refuse to apologize for killing any of Armacham's goons, but you were never supposed to be involved. Any of you."_ She said, cutting off Griffon's revelation.

"What do you mean, little miss?" Fox asked gently.

" _You, especially I regret She killed. You're a better father than Ours ever was, and it's just my damned luck that you have a daughter. Pray the New Me will be able to take down Armacham before she reveals any kind of psychic power at all. The world doesn't need two of Me in it. It almost didn't survive having one."_

The redhaired man just blinked in surprise. "How do you-

" _Psychic, remember? The whole package. Telekinesis, teleportation, telepathy, with a dose of negative-focused empathy and a pinch of pyrokinesis thrown in. I know, everything there is to know, about each and every one of you. Well…less about Jankowski. What I know about him came from his brother."_

"What about my brother?"

" _He's dead. Sorry. My son killed him and…well ate at him. Never did understand the idea that eating someone would give him their memories…much easier just to dive in and take it but…not like I got the damn chance to raise him myself now did I…stupid incompetent morons not able to friggin teach a psychic how to mind-walk…"_

The black haired child had looked away and had an annoyed scowl on her face. Her entire stance radiated irritation.

"I…what?"

" _You're dead too. Don't think too much about it."_

Before Jankowski could follow through on his impulse to start yelling, Griffin cut in again.

"Yeah about that. What's going on here? We all remember dying (nods around save Becket himself) so why are we…wherever the hell this is?"

" _Blame this idiot."_ She jerked her thumb towards Becket. _"And that dumb walking period stain Aristide."_

"Hey! That's the second time you've called me an idiot." Becket complained. Slightly uncharacteristically but considering what was going on, it could be forgiven.

" _Sweetie, you_ _ **are**_ _. Worst psychic ever and they expected you to_ _ **match**_ _Us? Puh-leeeeze. You've got combat skills but complicated mind stuff is waaaaay out of your league, babe."_

"…ok I'm insulted but more skeeved out that a little girl is…talking to me like a girlfriend."

" _Get used to it. My head's full of a terrible future that won't come to pass but…the me from that time was really into you. I don't see it."_

"Ok now I'm _more_ insulted."

" _Good. Hold on to that. Anyway, my best guess, is that when that living used tampon decided to muck around with your heads and try to make you stronger psychics to distract the other Me, she ended up connecting all of you accidentally. Budding psychics tend to take subconscious note of other psychics around them. And you all had a previous connection of being in the same unit."_

The girl shrugged.

" _Way I figure it, is that when She killed you, a part of your remnant psychic pulse got caught in Michael's subconscious. Kind of like an imprint, or an echo, of what you were just before your ends."_

"…so we're ghosts?"

She shrugged again. _"Essentially. I was never privy to the notes on the experiments they put me through, so anything more technical I have no clue. You will likely fade away once Michael wakes up. Maybe some of your individual skills or knowledge might bleed through, I don't know. But basically, this place is likely his mind's creation of a calming spot while it heals from all the enforced damage done. Wish I had one of those growing up…maybe I'd not have damn near triggered the friggin apocalypse…"_

None of them knew what to say about that.

"Not to sound…ungrateful or anything but…why are you here?" Fox inquired.

" _First off, don't think you should be thanking me. I, the me before you, may not have been the one to do it but I still killed you. Pointlessly. But that was thanks to the damn breathing example of the need for abortions messing with things that should have been left alone. Secondly, I didn't do anything to bring you here. That was complete and total chance, thanks to Michael being a team player. And thirdly, I'm just an imprint as well. And one that's being resisted."_

"What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. _"Look at my feet."_

Being the closest to her, Keegan was the first to notice-

"My god! They're covered in ants!"

" _Biting away like annoying little shits."_ She nodded casually.

"But why?!"

" _Because Michael is rejecting me. Rightfully so. But I'm stronger than him, even as just an imprint. So it manifests as a crapload of ants trying to nibble away at my skin. I've had much, much worse. This is literally nothing to me. But regardless, this isn't my place to be. I only appeared to make sure the idiot would live through the recovery process."_

"Again with the idiot…" Becket muttered. He didn't miss the shit-eating grin on her face.

" _You had the natural inclination for the power, from what I was able to steal from the human toilet bowl's mind. But the Other me's attempt at forcibly impregnating herself on you, combined with the psychic clash between you and Harold, mixed with the overload of the amplifier doing its thing, damn near shattered your mind. So before I dealt with her, I left an imprint of myself to start trying to seal shut the cracks. The slap-hazard bastardized operation they did on you already killed you three times. This place is where you're going to stay till the damage is healed enough for you to be able to…well, live again."_

"And they're here…because I pulled pieces of them into my head? And will go away when I wake up? **If** I wake up?"

" _You'll wake up. Your two living teammates have already started work on getting you to a hospital. Won't be easy but they're adults, they'll figure out a way. But yes. So if any of you have any pressing messages or important information to tell him, do it soon. Time is different here than out there. A minute here could be any amount of time from a second to a month to a decade out there. You won't know till he wakes up."_

* * *

As it was, when he indeed did wake up, it had been a half year since he was contained. Becket had spent that time in a coma, the doctors noting unusually high brain activity for a coma patient, but other than a few wounds that needed addressing during that very active week of duty, he was fine.

Just, unconscious.

When he woke, he did indeed have knowledge of some things he didn't before the events prior to that ill-fated assignment to the Valkyrie Towers, the most important being a message from Fox to his family.

"Tell them…tell them I loved them. And tell my little girl that…that…"

" _That Daddy died trying to save a little girl who had been turned into a monster."_

That had gotten a surprised look from both Becket and Fox. The child Alma just shrugged.

" _What? He's dead and not coming back. But just saying generically that he died a hero won't stick into her child mind. She'll understand he's dead, but not why he had to die. Children understand children, and children understand monsters. Telling her that her father died trying to save a little girl just like her, will help paint the picture that it could have been her he was trying to save. She'll still be lonely and maybe a little jealous, but that information will help her understand that he didn't die to be a hero for something other than what she would want him to be a hero for."_

But it would not be for nearly another half year, that he would be able to pass that message along.

Though he was otherwise unharmed, the six month coma had left his muscles slightly atrophied. The physical and normal therapy he was prescribed took a few months more. It wouldn't be until around month eight since the incident, that he would be walking normally without assistance, and not until around month ten that he was cleared entirely, physically and mentally.

The events, and near-rape, had indeed left its scars, but Alma's forced healing coma did more than just repair any psychic damage. The time spent with his teammates before waking, was enough to bring him to terms with the situation, and having learned of the horrible future that would have resulted had the younger version of Alma not stopped her present self, he was even slightly thankful to her.

It helped, that she accepted guilt of wrongdoing, but backed her reasoning up with logic of emotion. She was, after all, not properly raised, while also being of extreme supernatural powers that people – including her own father – wanted to exploit rather than work her through. They had created a monster, and then failed to control her. She was set free, but in the end, it was she herself who stopped her.

Unsurprising, Kiera Stokes had been a frequent visitor during his coma sleep, and became moreso after he woke. Until it came time for certain therapy sessions, not once did she mention Alma nor the events related to Armacham. Part of the reason for that, she would reveal in the middle of month ten, was because FEAR was trying to push an investigation into the company, with…not as victorious results as had been hoped. Armacham had their fingers in many pots, and had connections in high places. As it was, evidence was difficult to procure due to high levels of destruction caused by both Armacham and Alma.

Stokes was under orders to say as little as possible, until the Commissioner had a chance to interview Becket personally. Stokes and Morales had already been interviewed while Becket was asleep, but as neither of them had any psychic powers and thus were unable to properly witness most of Alma's actions – not to mention Manny was 'manning' the APC for the most part – their testimony was not as informative.

However, Becket had made a full recovery, and hadn't been displaying any obvious outward psychic power in the slightest – something that worried him as now that meant he didn't know if he _had_ anything useful or if it was just waiting for a bad moment – thus, having reached a stalled point in the attempt to bring Armacham to justice, Commissioner Betters had asked Stokes to relay a request – official, if need be – for Becket to come in for interview.

Wanting some payback of his own, even if only on the legal front, Becket agreed.

* * *

"Sergeant Becket. Good to meet you."

The room was comfortable, for an office. A calm, earthy brown was painted on the walls, lined with various medals and degrees. A small ceiling fan rotated slowly, as a deep mahogany brown desk sat in front of a series of file cabinets, some open. Atop the desk an expected if cliché'd lamp with green shading, a few manila folders, a notepad and various pens.

The man greeting him was Rodney "Rowdy" Betters, Commissioner of the First Encounter Assault Reconnaissance, or "FEAR" squad. Dressed in an unassuming business shirt and tie with brown slacks, short cut brown hair hidden under a black hat with the logo of the unit on the front, the man shook Becket's hand, motioning for him and his companions to take a seat. Next to him, stood Jin Sun-Kwon, a fairly pretty Korean-American woman of black hair tied into a bun, sharp brown eyes, and wearing her own business attire.

With Becket were Kiera Stokes and Manuel Morales, the only survivors of the events of nearly a year ago.

"Sorry it took so long to get you in here. But before we really begin, I wanna thank you for everything you did. I get the feeling nobody bothered to." Betters began, once everyone as seated.

"Thank you, Commissioner, and no…nobody really did."

The man shrugged apologetically, and continued. "Now Stokes and Morales have given me their own reports of what happened, but considering what we're dealing with, I wanted a chance to hear it from the mouth of the guy who was knee deep in the muck of it. It's been a while and you spent half a year in a coma so I'm not expecting perfect recall but anything you can give me would be helpful."

And so, for the next hour, Becket described _everything_.

Being attuned the way he was, had the unforeseen side effect of apparently granting him very sharp recall of major and minor events alike. Sun-Kwon paused him every now and then, asking for clarification on certain aspects, mostly revolving around Alma, but the end result was…

"So she's still alive?"

"If the child her was to be believed, yes."

"Do you have any idea what she wants?"

"Honestly I-

… _ **.i…el…**_

The world flickered.

Becket blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if trying to throw off a bug.

"I…Sorry. I have-

… _ **mi..ael…**_

It happened again. His vision swam as the faces around him blurred.

A strange _brown_ tint began seeping into the colors of the world around him.

"…oh shit…" he whispered, terrified, not seeing the looks of confusion and worry on the other people in the room.

He remembered this. The last time something like this happened. It was the exact moment Harlan Wade opened the container holding Alma at bay.

"Becket?" Stokes pushed, touching his shoulder.

… _ **MICHAEL!**_

"…she's-

 _ **GODDAMMIT MICHAEL ANSWER ME!**_

The world turned fully brown. Becket cut off as suddenly his eyes became glassy and unfocused. His hands had begun gripping the arms of the chair he was in as if trying to rip it apart. A loud high-pitched ringing sound began echoing in his head. The shapes of the world around him faded into grimy brown tendrils.

His pulse began to race, his breaths became quickened, his pupils had dilated even though he was staring at absolutely nothing except a brown, murky abyss.

"…Alma…?"

Unaware he was speaking aloud…he finally answered the Call.

 _ **Michael! Finally! Listen! I don't have much time!**_

"You…you're alive…?"

 _ **Not the TIME Michael! There are Replicas here and they're after me and I can't let them catch us!**_

"Repli…what? After-

 _ **NO TIME! I don't know where you are but you're close! I can't reach out to you long because they're somehow able to track me. Listen! We're at the Unity Station Shopping Centre! We'll try to hide as best we can but we need a way OUT!**_

"I…wait. Alma I've _fought_ you before the Rep-

 _ **I CAN'T Michael! I'll explain later but I need your help! Neither of us has a car and even if we did we'd be flapping ducks!**_

"Sitting ducks."

 _ **Flapping, because we'd be MOVING god you're not THAT stupid! I don't care how you get here just GET HERE! Unity Station Centre! Replicas attacking! Hurry!**_

And after that, with the feeling of being pulled out of quicksand, the world returned to normal, a sharp but brief pain in his temples, and the faint sensation of something dripping from his nose. The ache began to fade, as he clutched his forehead, before yanking his hand in front of his face, and flexing his fingers.

"…the hell do my hands hurt…?" he muttered to himself.

"Becket!"

He jumped, having forgotten he wasn't alone.

"Gah! Jeezus. Sorry. I'm…a little off-kilter."

"All of us are! What the hell happened to you?" Betters pushed.

"I…" He blinked rapidly. "A-Alma. She's…she was yelling in my head."

Betters paled. "…son…are you-

"I think I'm fine. Headache aside. She…was saying something about…replicas? Attacking Unity Station Shopping Centre?"

"Wait." Sun-Kwon cut in. "Are you saying she was warning you about a terrorist attack?"

He shook his head, flinching when he noticed the blood on his lip. Wiping it he spoke.

"No she was saying they're attacking right now. And the forces are Armacham's Replica Squadrons."

She looked at Betters, uncertain.

Right when someone barged in.

"Commissioner!"

"I'm in the middle of a meeting here! Who gave you permission-

"Sir! I'm sorry sir but the news channels are blowing up! They're saying a group of heavily armed men have begun discharging automatic weapons at Unity Centre!"

"Get on the horn and see what you can verify!"

"On it sir!"

The door slammed shut.

"Oh shit." Stokes suddenly said, shooting out of her chair.

"Stokes?"

"My…my cousin! She's working there today! I'm supposed to pick her up in two hours! Sir I'm sorry but-

"Hold on there Lieutenant. I might be able to do something about this." Betters turned to Becket.

"I can't right now officially make any orders for an _official_ OP but…you say Alma spoke to you?"

"She was asking…well, more like _demanding_ help but yes."

"I'll pull some strings. We've got a fueled up APC in the garage. It's unofficial for now but I'm authorizing you to go and retrieve Alma Wade."

Stokes breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you sir."

"Don't thank me just yet. We're off the books and I don't like it. But if Armacham's tipping their hand now, and we can get Alma secure, we might be able to walk away from this one with just a reprimand. I'll see what I can do to make it a retroactively official operation. Becket, Morales, Stokes, consider yourselves transferred to F.E.A.R. effective immediately."

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 04 –** _ **Altercation**_

 _ **Damn she wasn't kidding when she said these things don't play.**_

They had managed to hide underneath the window of a nearby bath and beauty shop. The gunfire hadn't stopped, but it had slowed drastically after the first three minutes. The attackers, Armacham's Replica forces. At least, according to Alma. And considering the way they had homed in on her location – as she'd said they likely would – when she did whatever she was doing to try to call for help, he'd had no reason to disbelieve her.

They were armed to the teeth, clad in body armor and face masks, moved like a cohesive unit, and indiscriminately murdered everything in their way. Their target may have been Alma, but anyone between them was mowed down in a hail of gunfire.

"I could splatter them all, but I don't know if that would splatter you and anything I missed would have a clear shot and I don't really know _how_ to do the splattering without getting angry and I don't want to cause I'm scared to and-

 _ **Relax! We keep moving.**_

She clammed up, clinging to his hand, and nodding.

The winds were stronger now. Not as calm. The waters were beginning to get louder. There was a faint hint of a grumbling growl in the distance. She didn't know what it was. But it felt…dangerous.

The first time she'd felt that in him.

The Replicas had dropped in through the ceiling in pods. Stepping out, immediately they took up defensive positions, before opening fire on the balcony above them. It was thanks to Alma that neither of them had gotten shot. Seconds before the glass above shattered, she'd snapped out of her tears with a look of horror on her face, before yanking him off the bench and pulling him into a run with her.

She'd told him, after a couple minutes, she knew of someone that _might_ be able to help, but the Replicas would likely detect her using her powers. She had no idea how they found her here of all places considering she hadn't been _doing_ anything but this would zone them in like a pinpoint laser.

She wasn't kidding. The second she'd dropped to her knees and closed her eyes, the gunfire stopped, and a series of stomping boots came. Distant crashes of more shattering glass as more Replica tubes dropped in other parts of the mall echoed.

She'd just snapped out of her trance in time for him to pull her into a nearby store and for the two of them to duck underneath one of the display windows.

"Spread out. They couldn't have gotten far!"

The sound of feet faded, but the screams and gunfire hadn't. Slowly, he peeked his head out, seeing nobody nearby.

"We need to get out of here." Problem was, they were at a side of the mall that had no exits except through some of the larger department store sections. And judging from the screams there were more Replicas in the direction of the closest one.

So it was decided they'd crouch-run in the direction of the food court. It was just their luck that they didn't run into a single squad, having found a temporary blind spot in the initializing patrols, during the pacifying confusion and chaos.

At least until they reached the food court proper, where a pair of Replicas had drawn their weapons on a solitary figure, who had been backed up to one of the register counters, a look of abject terror on her face.

A woman Seth recognized, if only just.

 _ **Shit! That's the girl from the-but I don't know if it'll-dammit no choice but to try!**_

Alma was going to ask what he was about to do, when the answer was right in front of her. He let go of her hand, dashing forward…

 _ **This Silence is Mine.**_

And suddenly her sight tinged _black_.

 _ **Pushenvelopgrabpullleftforcepushgrabenveloppullleftforcedragshovepushenvelopforcepullforcepullforcepull**_

" **SHINRA TENSEI!"**

Just as the left-most replica was about to pull the trigger on his gun, his body was _slammed_ into by an invisible pressure beyond compare. Lifting bodily off the ground he crashed into his squadmate, knocking both over the railing of the food court to the floor below, landing with a heavy **CRUNCH** of broken bone.

The woman stared, shocked and barely catching her breath at nearly dying.

"Come on!" Suddenly her arm was grabbed and the man had started pulling her along, the woman stumbling for a moment, before catching herself and running after him.

"Target Sighted!"

Alma had dashed forward, snapping out of her shock, meeting them half way, but as they had reached the midst of the food court, another Replica had turned a corner, spotting them. Noting where they were, Seth took a quick glance around, spotting nothing _nailed down_.

 _ **Pushenvelopgrabliftpullforcepushforwardmangrabpullforcepushforcepushforceliftrisepushforceforceforce**_

" **Shinra Tensei!"**

At his command, and a forceful thrust of both arms in the direction of the lone Replica, half the chairs and tables of the food court all lift off the ground, and a half second later, rocketed forward like a wall of metal dining pain.

"FUCK!"

Was the last thing they heard before the clattering of twenty metal chairs and tables smashed into the clone soldier, and the ground, and the walls, and some just flying over the railing to the ground below, where due to absolute luck, they fell with enough force to snap the legs of two more, about to fire upon a small family.

"Quick behind the counter!"

Not waiting for a response from either, he grabbed both of their hands, running the three of them to the abandoned cash registers.

 _ **Pushrightforceawaypushforceaway**_

A swipe of his right hand and one of the registers was blown aside with a loud crash and a spilling of cash and coins, as he threw himself over the counter. The other two followed suit, and they all crouched down behind the marble faced makeshift barrier.

"You alright Katie?" He asked the brunette woman.

She was the one from the lingerie store. She just stared at him, before the question registered. "Y-yeah. Thanks. I think. What the hell-

"What the hell was _that_?!" Alma whisper yelled.

Seth, still panting from the hop more than the run, responded to both.

"Complicated home-born terrorist attack." He replied to 'Katie's' unfinished question. Then he turned to Alma.

"It's an Aria."

"The hell's an Aria?"

"Preconstructed mental configuration. Like an incantation for a spell. Self-hypnosis technique to force the mind to focus on a single thing. Not much different from a lucky charm or whispered mantra before doing something that requires absolute focus."

"You never told me you were telekinetic!"

"I'm not."

 _ **Wrong kind of force.**_

Her nose scrunched up.

"We don't have time to get into it. We gotta-

"Flush them out!"

'Katie's' and Seth's eyes widened. _Both_ of them had seen enough action movies and played enough first person shooter games to understand what that meant.

 _ **Repelrejectawayrepelawayrejectawaynothererepelrejectthisspaceismine**_

" **Dople!"**

He threw his hand out, standing up. A ripple of air accompanied the motion. A small black object was launched backwards in the exact direction it came from.

And then exploded.

Screams and howls of agony were cut off after the ground shook.

"We gotta move!" he said to the two women who were both staring at him in amazement.

"Are you like, military trained or some shit?!" Katie exclaimed as she climbed over the counter.

"Not in the fucking slightest. I'm just a twitchy bastard. 's why I end up losing in fighters. Too much counter damage."

"What-

"They're definitely going to come running after that. We _need_ to get out of here."

"Khol's is blocked off by the tube things. I came from that direction." Katie said, trying to keep calm. Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking, but the situation was numbing her. For now.

 _Break down later. Live now._

She had a damn _date_ tomorrow.

"Alma how far out is that ride?"

"I don't know. I'd have to check and considering last time I did…"

 _ **Exit's on the lower floors. Dammit no map nearby either. Best bet is to go in the way I came.**_

"Contact!"

Another single Replica. Coming from the direction the grenade had been detonated in, which was thankfully opposite to the way they needed to travel. Still, he raised his weapon.

"Shit!"

Instinctively, he grabbed Katie and pushed the brunette towards Alma, knocking them both over.

 _ **Pullpushpullforcepullliftpullforcepulltomepullforcepullforcepull**_

" **Banshō Ten'in!"**

As Seth made a grasping motion with his left hand, he stepped to his right while grabbing one of the remaining nearby chairs that had been upended from the shockwave of the grenade's detonation. To the Replica's surprise, his body was pulled forward as if by the hand of a giant, limbs splayed out behind him as he flew headfirst into the full-body swing of the metal sitting implement. The **KONG** of metal on plastic accompanied a dual **CRUNCH** as the Replica's nose was broken, at the same time as his spine was snapped. The body dropped limply to the ground, blood slowly dripping from the broken nose.

Seth turned to the two girls, and then realized what he did.

"Oh shit. Alma-

He froze as she was holding Katie's arms…and staring at him.

"…Nothing's happening…" The psychic said.

Katie, confused, looked at where Alma was gripping her forearm. "What-

" _Nothing_ is _happening_." Whispered the black-haired woman, almost reverently.

"…is this my fault too?" Seth asked, semi-jokingly.

"I am going to ride you until neither of us can walk." Alma said, very plainly.

Seth just huffed in humor.

"All my babies, huh?"

"Every. Last. Drop."

* * *

It took them five minutes to get on the road. Three to gear up, two to find a small siren to slip onto the top of the APC to clear the roads faster. FEAR had bases all around the country, thankfully, that were decently stocked with various weapons and armor, though nothing _tremendously_ powerful.

No RPGs or Pulse Weapons here.

Still, what should have been a ten minute drive looked like it was going to be extended longer, due to severe traffic and annoyingly enough, news crews. The APC as well, was too large to fit down some of the more narrow side-streets that could have been taken, but not wanting to damage the 'rental' they had to stick to main roads.

Stokes was clearly nervous, far more so than even the week dealing with Alma. Her leg was vibrating rapidly, showing the signs of distress and concern that were racing through her. She was scared for her cousin, a young woman only a couple of years younger than herself. They didn't know each other terribly well, but held fairly pleasant conversations during family gatherings over multiple holidays.

Stokes had volunteered to pick her up, because her car was in the shop for an inspection, being paid off by the temporary job at a lingerie store a few doors down from the tech repair shop she usually worked at.

And now, she was in danger, possibly dead. Though Stokes did her damndest not to think about that. If Becket was to be believed, the Replicas were specifically after Alma, and hopefully her cousin would keep her head down.

Hopefully.

Manuel was tense. Though more concerned for Becket and Stokes. He'd come to like the woman, over the months waiting for Becket's recovery. Not in a romantic sense, but the three of them survived shit that no human should be able to. When he thought about the events of that week, it felt like he was remembering a twisted action movie. Something impossible, but damn would it be entertaining to watch.

He wouldn't say these thoughts out loud though. Everyone but himself and Becket, from Dark Signal, were killed by Alma. And honestly, humor was a coping mechanism for him. Not that he found their deaths comical in the slightest, but more that it was the only way he could stand the memories.

They died, for pointless reasons. No reason at all, other than some idiots wanted to play God, and his friends happened to be caught in it.

…just like an action movie.

Still, he was glad he took the extra time to hunt down that siren. Blaring it loudly got them a way through to the Mall faster than the blockage would suggest. And the markings on the sides would tell local law enforcement that they were special forces.

Maybe being part of FEAR wouldn't be such a bad transfer after all.

Becket on the other hand, was sitting stoically. He had no knowledge of how to reach out to Alma, though he could feel _something_ at the back of his mind, slowly getting stronger. And even if he _did_ know, he wouldn't want to. The way she made it sound, talking to him draw the Replicas' attention to her. And she wasn't alone.

Still, he was hoping she would reach out to him again soon. He needed to tell her about Stokes' cousin. The woman had shown him a quick picture of the girl on her smartphone, so he'd have an image to send Alma, 'just in case.'

Oddly enough…

He was about to get his wish granted.

* * *

"Fuck!"

"He wiped out the whole squad!"

"Man down!"

"Move up!"

"No fucking way!"

"Threat sighted!"

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

"If you die it'll be alright."

 _Man these guys are regular chatterboxes arent they?_

He'd left the two women behind. Well, not so much 'behind' as, 'sideways.'

This wasn't his _first_ encounter with an armed group after all.

Bullets were generally too fast for him to repel, but without having to worry about potential collateral…well, _as much_ collateral, he could _move_ better. Still, he'd grabbed a handgun and prayed they worked like the arcade weapons, just in case.

 _Though I doubt I can just shoot outside of the screen to reload…_

He didn't use it much, even if he'd ripped a holster for it off of one of the bodies. He moved faster on his own. The plan, or rather _his_ plan was to hopefully generate enough chaos in the ranks that the two girls would be able to slip out relatively unscathed.

Even though they seemed to home in on…

… _that's not it…_

Still. There was-

It was really not just-

… _the first step…is accepting you know nothing…_

…there was more, wasn't there?

 _Gaze into the abyss._

It was honestly too much. Too much too fast.

 _Open up._

He wasn't a completely solitary person. But to go from generally alone with one or two close friends to having a girl pretty much declare you her…well…key item…

 _Make your space where you can._

He was overwhelmed. Her presence wasn't so much _stifling_ as he honestly needed time to register everything. The days events suddenly shifted so quickly and it had been one revelation after another and he needed to regain his balance.

… _Break the rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two._

He wasn't at home in combat. Not in the slightest. He barely fought anyone. Save for one other major event in his life, he generally stayed out of fights. And this was a miniature war. But he knew how to survive. Especially thanks to _his_ powers.

 _Break the rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two._

And it wasn't so much her as it was that it was all too sudden. He could work with sudden changes, not that he enjoyed them. Chaos was his way but his way was the kind of Chaos that came from navigating ripples of one's own creation. Expecting the unexpected could only go so far. It's not like you can _plan_ for a cargo plane to suffer a malfunction and drop an elephant onto your car just before you get into it.

 _Break the rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two._

He wasn't going to just up and leave her. That wasn't the kind of person he was. That wasn't his way. She'd probably just follow him regardless. But he needed a moment of peace. And though he was still slipping around squads of Replicas, popping skulls and breaking bones, he was becoming more centered.

 _Wrestle it. Three-Four._

He understood the problem. And now was taking steps to rectify it. This wasn't at all what he was ready to deal with, but he would keep going forward.

 _Break the Rock. Make a Man._

He always did.

* * *

He was going to try to clear a path forward. Or at least, reduce the amount headed their way.

Alma knew that wasn't the _only_ thing he was doing. It made sense honestly. He needed to get away for a bit.

Everyone needs their 'me' time. And she'd been a pretty big and sudden interruption to that.

It sucked that the need popped up during the middle of a small-scale war but…

There were a lot of bodies around. Replica, and shopper. A flicker of a pulse of _absolute rage_ lanced through her heart at the sight of a few dead children.

She _hated_ killing children. Well, she hated children on the regular. …ok that was a little bit of a stretch. She was _jealous_ of them. But she hated knowing that she was the cause of so many deaths of children. A part of her still considered her barely more than a child herself. The extra year to come to terms with being an adult – even if in a younger body than she should be in – only did so much to separate her memory of being a child with a few snippets of recollection of giving birth in a much bigger frame than she was used to, with the knowledge that she was an adult now.

Even if she didn't have _as_ many adult responsibilities as most did.

But she _hated_ seeing children dead. Or hurt at all really. It reminded her of…unhappy times.

"Target Sighted!"

Luckily (or un) a distraction appeared just in time.

Ahh, but that was the problem now wasn't it? Their only combat member _just left_.

"oh shit…" the woman next to her muttered, the realization dawning on her. The stomping of multiple feet came around the corner, just beyond an abandoned selling cart covered in colorful pictures and dangling jewelry.

It _really_ was a shame she'd spent so long _not_ training her control. But she was afraid of…well, _this_ happening.

 _No point in being afraid of it anymore. The last thing I wanted to have happen, happened. So I've just gotta deal._

 _ **Break the rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two.**_

She had no idea what the words he was focusing so heavily on meant. The winds had stayed rough, the sounds of raging waters growing. The occasional low growl in the distance had grown louder, and closer, as if something were beginning to wake. The petals swimming in the air had begun to dance as if caught in a growing storm.

But something about the words… _pushed_ at her.

 _ **Break the rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two.**_

Was this another 'aria'? No…the focus was…inward. Almost selfish feeling. It wasn't a clarity of purpose or a discovery of intention, but rather an attempt at…understanding…the self? As if he were trying to recognize something, give it shape.

It was distracting, honestly, but at the same time…

It was an unusual kind of calm. Like being in the eye of a storm. A feeling of being surrounded by _danger_ yet at the moment, as long as you keep moving _with_ the calamity, you would be forever safe.

 _ **Break the rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two.**_

She had her fears. Her doubts. Her worries. Many of them. Moreso because of her powers. Definitely, because of her powers. She wanted to be stronger. Be _better_. But she'd been alone and afraid and it was slow going. But she found him. And he was even _greater_ than Becket was. She found him, and the second she found him she found _peace_. A feeling of being _home_. Something she'd never had before.

What…what was it she wanted…?

Out of all this?

 _ **Wrestle it. Three-Four.**_

A home.

A family.

A place to go back to.

Friends maybe.

A…

… _life._

A life. A life she could call _hers_. A quiet place. A place of calm and peace and silence. Something that she could claim as her own.

 _This…_

And in that moment, she _truly_ understood. The connection to him was one thing. The _circuit_ being complete when she'd held both of his hands, was another. Being able to be in his mind and see his inner world and feel his thoughts and have it _not hurt_ was in a category of its own. But it was _this_ exact second in time. This one seemingly meaningless moment in her life of _trillions_. This single iota of passing existence wrapped in a blanket of intersecting pathways.

This moment, when the sound of stomping feet gave way to a squad of five armed clones, all raising their weapons to end the lives of her and the woman next to her, a woman she didn't know, but _he did_.

She _understood him._

 _ **Break the Rock. Make a Man.**_

 _ **This Silence is Mine.**_

" **Shinra Tensei."**

* * *

A soft ringing began echoing through his ears.

Seeing his head snap up, Stokes looked to him sharply.

"Becket?"

"I think Alma's-

 _ **MICHAEL HOW DO I GUN?!**_

His head rocked back, Stokes watching the man jerk backward, blinking rapidly in surprise.

"Alma do you _need_ to be that loud?"

 _ **Michael I am literally twenty feet away from a squad of rabid clones that are trying to kill me and the best thing that's ever fucking happened to me in my entire goddamn life HOW DO I GUN?!**_

"Jesus slow down. What do you mean how do you gun?"

 _ **I have a damn GUN in my hands and I don't know how to use it! Stop stalling and tell me!**_

"Ok ok what kind of-

Suddenly his sight was overtaken by the image of the firearm in her hands. A familiar gun, used very often during the skirmishes with the Replicas while trying to get to Still Island. The **Patten PK470 Assault Rifle** was one of his personal favorites. Good at medium and semi-long range due to its ability of firing in full and semi-auto.

"Ok, I can help but there's something important."

 _ **Oh god WHAT?!**_

"Stokes has a cousin. She's in the mall right now. We need to verify her situation."

Pushing, he focused on the image of Kiera Stokes' cousin, _Katelyn_ Stokes.

"That's what she-

Suddenly his vision was filled with the face _of the exact girl he had seen a picture of._

"…oh."

 _ **Michael, honey, you want her alive, you have one thing to answer.**_

"How do gun?" Unconsciously, a small grin formed on his face.

 _ **How. Do. I. GUN?!**_

Lucky for him, possibly both saving Katelyn's life, as well as his own, there were some of that exact model on the APC.

"Give me a sec."

He _pulled_ , managing somehow, to split his focus between the strange brown air pattern that always accompanied Alma's presence, and the physical world.

"Stokes, I need a gun."

"Becket-

"Stokes, please."

Concerned but trusting him, she handed him one of the rifles.

"Empty clip?"

"here!" Manny tossed one from underneath the seat. "Someone didn't do proper clean-up!"

Catching and checking it, Becket nodded, attaching it to the gun and racking the chamber to make sure nothing was inside.

"Here goes nothing."

Letting himself be fully submerged in Alma's psychic field, he unclasped his safety belts. The brown crept further across his vision, sight flickering between a murky image of the internals of the APC, and what Alma was seeing.

No longer did he speak, letting his instincts and training flow through his mind and body, focusing only on the _battle._

He couldn't teach her how to shoot. He could maybe tell her the individual parts of the weapon, and how they worked, how to pull the trigger, but it wouldn't be enough.

She'd never fired a gun before in her life. And the Replicas were trained soldiers. She'd get both her and Katelyn killed in seconds.

So instead, he had the idea of mixing his mind with hers, letting her do the actual shooting, while he pushed her body to take the proper positions. Her muscles may not have been trained for it, but she _was_ a psychic.

It was a long-shot, but their only hope.

It was truly lucky that she trusted him enough that she let his mind partially mix with hers without interruption.

The Replicas never knew what hit them.

* * *

They had been hiding behind an overturned display cart.

It was an impressive display of power…that did ultimately little. She said the words, and thought she understood the intent. She'd connected to him in a way she'd _never_ done so before, and not without harming the person she was _diving_ through.

But while the _silence_ had become hers…

The _power_ wasn't.

The wave that launched from her was indeed in a forwardly direction. The problem was, it was too broad, too wide, and not _dense_ enough. She only knew the bare minimum of what happened when he said those two words. She had heard the jumbled thoughts just before he spoke whenever he verbalized his incantation, but they didn't register as important.

Junk data, she had assumed.

The wave came, and it threw the replicas backward. One happened to be thrown head-first into a stone pillar with enough force to break his back. But the others were merely thrown away, and the cart that clearly had belonged to a tattoo artist, had fallen over and been pushed in the direction the Wave was going, a little bit.

She _thought_ she understood. But she didn't.

" _ **Hmph. Look at her. Trying to use an Aria that isn't even hers."**_

The voice…was female. But _where_ it was coming from and who it belonged to…

" _ **She got a result though. That counts for something, doesn't it?"**_

A _second_ voice. Faint, both of them. On the wind, like a whisper.

A flicker of blonde hair fluttering.

A soft jingle of metal chains.

" _ **Pfft. So what? A thief stealing a gun and landing a lucky shot with it, a marksman does not make."**_

" _ **True enough."**_

 _WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!_

" _ **She doesn't know."**_

" _ **Of course she doesn't. She may now live here but this is not yet her home."**_

" _ **Shall we tell her?"**_

" _ **No. Let her stew on it a little."**_

" _ **You are an invader, though one of peace."**_

" _ **You don't belong here, but apparently you do, I guess."**_

" _ **This is His sanctum. A place so deep even he does not know."**_

" _ **Ehh, he kinda had an idea."**_

" _ **Still. One cannot expect to just mimic Power without knowing the Meaning."**_

" _ **Power without Reason is useless, y'know?"**_

" _ **Your attempt failed, because the words were not yours."**_

" _ **The Power, isn't yours."**_

" _ **The Reason, is not yours."**_

" _ **Next time, don't ignore the details."**_

" _ **Focus on what**_ _ **you**_ _ **can do for now."**_

" _ **Don't expect us to be so chatty next time."**_

" _ **Indeed. After all…"**_

" _ **This Garden is Ours."**_

* * *

It _looked_ cool. What she did.

It didn't do much though. But it gave them some cover so maybe it was enough. She'd looked panicked and confused for a few moments there, before she'd run forward. Katelyn followed, _really_ not wanting to die.

Alma was clutching some assault rifle she'd grabbed off of one of the bodies on the lower floor, eyes closed, a look of intense focus on her face. Seth had taken off to try to create a big enough distraction to at least weaken the laser focus on Alma the Replicas seemed to have. Katie was crouched worriedly next to the raven haired psychic, when suddenly her eyes snapped open.

And then _death_.

Like a phantom, Alma stood up, shifting out of cover behind the cart.

"She's ov-

 **BLAM**

Her gun rose, and a single bullet found purchase in the speaker's forehead. Like lightning, her aim shifted right, firing three shots. Two hit another Replica's torso as the third caught him in the neck. Side-stepping further to the right, to take cover behind a support pillar, she fired four more rounds. Two missed, but one hit a Replica hand, and the fourth the torso. Her back to the pillar, her left hand rose up and flicked a small switch on the side of the rifle.

"We have two men down!"

"I'm hit!"

The **ra-tat-tat** of multiple bullets being launched from muzzles rang through the air. Projectiles slammed into the marble square pillar she was leaned against, some lodging within the thicker stone innards, and others bouncing off. Hearing one ping by, Katie ducked her head lower, eyes still on Alma, who seemed to be in some kind of trance.

 _ **Wait. Wait. Wait. Now.**_

The girl spun to the right side of the pillar, before running forward ten steps. Lifting her gun again and taking aim, she crouched down onto one knee.

 _ **Two o'clock.**_

 **BLABLABLABLAM**

 _ **Ten thirty.**_

 **BLABLAM**

 _ **One forty five.**_

 **BLABLABLABLAM**

"Open fire!"

 _ **SHIT! Nine twenty five!**_

She quickly jerked her aim to her left, pressing the trigger.

 **BLABLABLABLABLAM-chkkchkkchkk**

Her eyes widened.

"Die motherfucker!"

 _ **Three fiftee-**_

 **POP POP POP**

"HOOOOOOOUUUHHHH"

The link faded as Alma whirled around.

To see Katie holding a pistol, slowly lowering it.

"You…you can gun?"

A shaky smile. "Handguns only. And not very well."

"Well enough. You saved my life."

"You two saved mine first."

"True."

 _ **Grab one of those, check the bodies for spare clips and get moving.**_

" _I think I get it now. I can handle the rest of the way myself, especially if she's able to help on occasion. Focus on getting here. We're near the north exit. We'll be in the parking lot soon."_

 _ **Got it. And Alma. Be careful.**_

" _Right."_

* * *

So…he'd stolen a few jewels.

He wasn't _normally_ a thief but…

His powers required some…extensively complex thinking. He'd experimented enough over the years to be able to perform instant techniques, such as what he called the **Shinra Tensei** and the **Banshō Ten'in.** There were others, of course, but not terribly many. Not having practice targets sucked.

But something he'd learned, was that it helped to have anchor points. Things to focus on as 'this location is the origin of effect'. And of course, as it's a self-hypnosis technique, it would have to be something easily noticeable in a crowded room. Sure, he could probably pick just about anything in an area and designate it 'origin' but it was better to have something that was 'his'.

It made the synchronization process much easier.

Plus…

 _Maybe…I can teach her too._

Jewelry was much less dangerous to throw around than knives. Or pens. Or pots.

Yeah he'd practiced on those as well.

The mall had cleared out pretty rapidly. There were still tons of dead bodies, civilian, security, and even a few Replica. But he'd basically secured the route to the nearest exit for them, and had spent a few moments…

Drawing big arrows in blood by dragging dead bodies.

It was morbid, and he knew that part of his conscious mind was…locked down.

He could hear the gentle twinkling of illusory crystal, after all.

But he continued on. Leaping higher with the assistance of a wave of force that erupted to his feet, he landed on one of the rafters above. A group of three Replicas were heading in the direction that he knew Alma and Katie to be in. Slipping an opal out of his pocket, he stared at it, drinking in the sight. Nodding to himself, he chucked it.

 _All begins as one._

Stilling his breathing, he listened.

 **K-TINK**

"What was that?"

 _All ends as one._

It had landed right in between them.

 _Now._

" **Mugen: Kokū Reppa."**

From the exact spot the opal landed, a wall of force erupted. Similar to the explosive force of a grenade, that particular _distortion_ created a series of attracting and repelling forces in rapid sequence, causing a locational collapse that mimicked being smashed by a truck while thrown by the hand of a giant baseball pitcher.

The result, was…well, very much like being right on top of a grenade.

Just without the fire bit.

It was really good at clearing rubble though.

Or people.

If you didn't mind the mess.

… _yeap…just like that watermelon. Sweet Tia that's…nasty._

Still, it did what he wanted it to. It showed himself, capable of doing more than just blasting things away. He was a proper threat.

Not something he was _proud_ of, but something that clearly needed to be acknowledged.

That said, he looked up, hearing the growing roar of an approaching helicopter.

* * *

"They're not gonna be happy about that." Becket quipped.

"Well they should have moved their cars then." Was Manny's reply.

The final approach to the mall was blocked by a pair of police cruisers acting as a makeshift blockade. Manny had blared the siren repeatedly, followed by multiple honks of the APC's fairly loud and very distinguishable horn, but nobody made to move the obstruction. Thus, using the superior size and shape of the personnel carrier, he smashed right through the middle.

APC = 1, Police = 0

Reaching the parking lot after one final hard right turn, their driver made a wide u-turn, letting the back face the nearest entrance, a good five hundred feet away. Grabbing loaded guns this time, Becket and Stokes both bolted out of the back of the APC, armor secured – with Stokes _not_ leaving a gap to be shot in the stomach this time – and faces hard, ready to deal with…well…anything.

At the same time, Alma and Katelyn had just managed to race through the entrance doors. Both of them stumbled slightly while adjusting to the light of the sun above, reflecting off of the many remaining cars. The people who had survived the initial arrival of the bullet spraying Replicas, had mostly left their cars behind, racing as far as they could on foot. Some bodies of dead or unconscious shoppers were scattered about, but mostly the lot was clear, save vehicles.

Feeling something close by, Alma's head snapped in the direction of Becket, noticing quite obviously, the armored vehicle in the distance. Reaching out and grabbing her fellow survivor's hand, the two began the final stretch to what would hopefully be safety. Becket and Stokes were making just as hasty an approach, Stokes trembling with relief-born-fear at seeing her cousin safe.

Even if she _was_ next to Alma.

However…

From just beyond the forest to the west of the mall, came a loud, fluttering roar.

Becket's eyes widened as Stokes' mouth dropped in mounting horror.

A fully armed and armored _gunship_ was making its approach.

"Book it, Alma!" Yelled Becket, knowing there was no way they could _fight_ the mechanical monstrosity.

The black haired psychic heard the yell but was too busy panting for breath with each step to reply, or even _think_ one. She took one look behind her and paled further, pouring all her focus into _running the fuck away_.

The attack chopper made a single pass, before turning around, nose positioned at a low angle. A faint flare of flame emerged from behind its square pods, as a pair of missiles, one from each rack, fired.

There was little time to react. No chance of escape.

 _Something_ was going to die.

It had been a long time since Alma had felt so helpless.

Yet…

With a loud crunch of gravel, making a ground-shattering landing…

Came _Seth_.

" **AEGIS!"**

And the moment he threw his arms up and _roared_.

Alma's vision was taken over by the sight of a blonde haired woman in an emerald green dress, raising her arms above her head, as a strange symbol of a six pointed star enclosed in a double layered circle with incomprehensible squiggle letters appeared in the twilight sky of his mind.

" _ **Santen Kesshun: I**_ _ **Reject**_ _ **!"**_

As the second female voice Alma had heard from the 'direction' his mind was, became _very_ clear, _everyone_ was treated to the sight of a shimmer of air expanding outward from Seth's outstretched hands. The missiles passed through this expanding ripple, and suddenly veered off in opposing directions; one impacting and detonating on the roof of the mall itself, and another exploding on the surface of a nearby office building.

Stunned, the four could do nothing but jump when the booming crash of multiple Replica drop pods resounded in the parking lot, as another two squads were deployed, to assist the attack chopper.

Alma gave a violent twitch, as suddenly she heard a very defined **CRACK**.

Distracted by the sound coming from the depths of the mind of the person she had come to believe would be the one to truly save her from her personal hell, she didn't notice _Becket_ give the same twitching jolt.

All she could see, was the solidifying image of a head of shaggy pink hair, a vaguely feminine looking figure in a tight shimmering black bodysuit…

And a _second_ symbol, looking like an eye in the shape of a teardrop, surrounded by flower petals spread like wings, above a blooming bud.

Her vision flickered back to reality, as Seth's arms flopped to his sides, a blank look of exhaustion on his face.

" _ **I guess it's time then."**_

 _Time…?_

" _ **Time to show the world again…"**_

He dropped to his knees, slumped over, as if unconscious.

"… _ **what lies beyond the**_ _ **Other Side of Nothing.**_ _ **"**_

The Replicas all raised their weapons.

"OPEN FIRE!"

Only for the world to _shudder._

As before her eyes, formed the very same figure.

That then began to _scream_.

Alma and Becket both slapped their hands over their ears in reflex to the shrill noise. Stokes and Katelyn were dropped to their rears as _force_ washed over them, knocking them back.

 _Everything else_ however…

Was suspended in mid-air, engulfed by the waves of _rage_ that emanated from the pink haired phantom's throat. Cars, pods, Replicas, trash, glass, bottles…

The only thing _not_ lifted, were those four, and the APC.

The scream tapered off, and the phantom _vanished in a burst of light absorbing vapors._

Alma and Becket both shuddered as a voice _tore_ into their skulls.

All as Seth's eyes snapped open, body surrounded in a visible haze of distorted light.

 _ **Dive too Deep**_

 _ **Tenkaigan**_

 _ **Empty Sky**_

* * *

 **(BGM: Dragon's Dogma: Dark Arisen – Resentful Prisoner ~Condemned Gorecyclops Battle~)**

The moment he stood, it was as if the spell was broken.

Violently.

Everything suspended was slammed into the ground. Cars were suddenly crunched inward as if a giant had landed upon each of them. Armor was cracked and sundered, glass was shattered, even lampposts were bent over and snapped.

But the Replicas survived. Clamoring to their feet, they grabbed what weapons they could and tried to regain control of the situation.

Except suddenly Seth was on them. The ground distorted beneath his feet as he leaned forward, a loud **CRUNCH** of stone and gravel kicking up a wall of dust at the level of force created from the mere act of him pushing towards them. His right fist was pulled back, hair fluttering in the winds of his sudden stop.

Only…

It wasn't him.

The form of that girl from before, the one that screamed, had overtaken his. It wasn't his fist, it was a smaller, pale fist connected to an arm in a black bodysuit.

Except it _was_ his fist. And the Replica he punched, went _sailing_ into a tree, shattering it and his skull.

A _very_ noticeable ripple of distorted air accompanying the impact, along with a loud, thick, **PLUNK.**

"FUCK!"

Reacting swiftly, guns pointed in his direction, except she had already _burst_ to the next, her left leg sweeping low as she ducked underneath the reactionary discharge, tripping up the Replica only for him to twist around and thrust kick it fifty feet away into the wall of the mall where the body _exploded_ into a spray of blood on impact.

Also the wall was cratered deeply enough for it to start to collapse.

In the few moments of travel time, he had _burst_ over to another, making a short hop and delivering a heavy full body punch to another's face. The **PLUNK** happened again as her fist impact the helmeted skull, the ripple accompanying the strike driving the Replica into the ground, with an unheard snap of its neck. Whirling around, her pink hair fluttered into her face before she blurred and _burst_ over to the next.

His fist swung up, catching the Replica in the chin, where she grasped the left leg, before spinning on her heel, throwing the Replica away, where he burst in front of its flight path driving a very solid axe kick into the Replica's torso, shattering the ribcage and cratering the ground beneath her pale, bare feet.

* * *

Alma couldn't believe her eyes. Literally, she couldn't. She wasn't sure what she was looking at. She could _hear_ drums pounding away at her bones. She could _feel_ the music as if it were flowing through her veins like blood.

But what she was _seeing_ was what truly confused her.

He kept…not being _he_.

He would sometimes be _she_.

His form would suddenly flicker and instead would be the girl who screamed. She would do something then she would flicker and he would be making the exact same motion. Back and forth, as if they were in the same spot at all times performing the same acts.

Thus, she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Because she had no idea _what the fuck she was looking at_.

She didn't know what the voices were. She didn't know what the words meant. She didn't know _who any of those girls were_.

All she knew, was that she _literally_ could not move. She was stuck in a trance, the world constantly switching between reality and the world inside Seth's mind. The shifts of visible surroundings were asynchronous with the shifts between Seth and the Phantom Girl. The only similarities were that both would be happening at random.

But what was happening was still incredible. He…she… _they_ were flinging the Replicas around like ragdolls. Alma had memory of doing similar things, usually before _vaporizing_ someone but…

That _he_ -she-they were doing it as well…and so _expertly_ …

A loud whine broke through. A glance up.

The rotary cannon on the gunship was beginning to spin up.

She wanted to call out. To warn to alert to… _something_!

But it didn't matter.

The ship was already destroyed.

Reality just hadn't caught up to reflect it just yet.

* * *

The moment the whine began to increase in pitch, another Replica was grabbed bodily. Twirling on his feet, she through the clone solder directly at the gunship's top-most rotor blades. The unfortunate soldier was quickly turned into a pulpy red mist, hindering the sight of its pilot and gunner. Still, the primary cannon began to fire.

None of that mattered however, as she was already leaping. Flipping forward, his leg came down on the canopy, splintering glass, and the accompanying wave of force _tilted_ the whole chopper forward…where she caught the middle of its tail, before swinging his legs backward, wrenching the whole thing _upside-down_ , only to _launch it into the ground_.

The accompanying explosion blew her backward, where he landed gently, coasting on the waves of force from the chopper's detonation.

Haze still around his body, he'd begun to turn away from the impact site, where a _very loud_ explosive crash occurred not fifty feet away.

A loud, repeating **KWUURR?-THUNK. KWUURR?-THUNK.** Came from the cloud of dirt and dust and settling gravel. He stared passively at the cloud, as a large, truck-sized object came into view.

The **REV6 Powered Armor** pointed its quad-barrel gun arms at the girl. Her response? Only a more _densifying_ of the distorted air around him. The barrels spun up. And he _moved_.

A hail of bullets raced towards him but she was already moving to the right. Body blurred by the very distorting haze of twisting space, his arms and legs pumped as the ground beneath her bare feet became small craters. The gun arms followed his movement as best they could, all while he made a loose circle around the mechanical suit, dashing towards it as well. As the bullet storm was about to reach, she burst again, kicking off the ground and spinning like a corkscrew _through_ the hail of white hot metal.

Anything that seemed like it should touch him, was narrowly evaded by a combination of whatever effect that haze seemed to have, mixed with the speed of the rotation. The armor's pilot had to correct their aim again as now he was on the _opposite_ side. Only they never got a chance as suddenly she flung her arm forward in an outward scooping motion, and a bright red hot-rod slammed into the armor.

The omni-directional half-sphere barrier took the brunt of the explosion that followed, but as the armor slowly lumbered out of the detonation cloud, the barrier was glowing a faint red.

Which was bad for its pilot as three more cars had been lifted and propelled towards it. The armor made a staggered leap, dodging the first two cars that had crunched in on themselves slamming where it was, but was caught by the third. The third vehicle, a jeep, had made contact, throwing it back towards the ground, and breaking its protective barrier.

* * *

Becket was terrified.

He was paralyzed, he was stuck, he was _watching something that had broken beyond all concept of confusion into abject impossibility._

That was no _human_.

Every move the young man made, was accompanied by a _giant black scaled appendage_ appearing and vanishing like a phantom. It wasn't just _his_ fist that he was punching the clones with, it was that of some _massive creature_ beyond comprehension. It wasn't a mere _scream_ that had suspended everything, but a **roar.**

When the powered armor was thrown to the ground from the impact, _he_ landed next to it. The armor swung, but _he_ ducked the swing.

And then _two massive arms latched onto its elbow and wrist_ , before **ripping it off**.

It wasn't a screeching roar of twisting metal and circuitry that caused Becket to tremble.

It was the _triumphant roar of a rampaging_ _ **dragon**_ _._

* * *

Throwing the arm aside, ignoring the sparks and leaking fluids, she twirled on the balls of her bare feet and delivered a damaging side kick to the center of the armor. The legs stumbled back, a high-pitched protesting whine of displeased metal squealing as it did so, but he had no reaction other than to follow up with a quick forward hop to get slightly above it.

 _ **Dai-Kaigan**_

 _ **Tenha: Juu-roku-shō**_

Pulling arms back, she ripped forward with sixteen lightning fast _heavily punishing_ punches to the upper torso and 'face' of the armor's body. Each punch was accompanied by distorted ripples of air upon impact, and a loud repeating **PRUTUTUTUTUTUTUTUTUTUNK** tore through the ears. With each successful strike, a pulse of distorted sight emerged from behind the machine, splintering the ground beneath. After the final fist was placed directly upon the surface of the horribly dented metal faceplate, he dropped low before turning on his heel, throwing right leg backwards at an upward angle, a ripple of force _launching_ the armored Replica into the air and away.

 _ **Tenkai Dai-Kaigan**_

She crouched low, knees bent almost to her chest.

The ground _collapsed_ as he **launched** into the sky.

 _ **Empty Sky**_

After reaching the peak of her ascent, a _visible_ wall of force erupted from his back.

 _ **Void Omega Drive**_

And she was _launched_ forward.

But all _Alma_ heard, was the phantom girl's voice, _roaring_ in triumph.

" _ **HŌSEI HŌKŌ-RYŪ!"**_

Fast as a flying bullet, his leg extended in a flying kick forward, the distortive haze around her body became like a _blanket_ that enveloped the sky. A loud **PLUNK** _ **OOOOM**_ came from the moment of impact, the air becoming a literal wall that slammed down upon all that remained, throwing the four onlookers onto their backs and five feet from where they'd been standing.

The powered armor, however, was sent flying at blinding speeds, where it crashed into the mall with such force that it instantly collapsed an entire wing.

And then the _detonation_ happened.

A strange, rumbling **VRRRRUMMMMM-** _ **SHOOOOOOOoooooouuuk-BOOOM**_ erupted from the impact zone, _leveling_ the rest of the mall in a single, earthshattering, ear-splitting explosion of force.

Slowly, as gravel, bits of fabric, and small chunks of falling stone pelted the parking lot, they all got to their feet.

Where they were treated to Alma once again putting her foot in her mouth.

"…I think I came."

" _ **You would."**_


	6. Aftermath

The dust had settled, the sky no longer raining pebbles and stone and glass and dirt. The spell had been broken, Katelyn and Stokes getting to their feet, Becket shaking his head, still seeing a shimmer of an image of a slowly breathing _dragon_ superimposed around the dark skinned young man.

Alma, however, had gotten to her feet after having absently spoken. She made to approach but was suddenly face to back with the Phantom Girl.

The sky was covered in illuminated cracks, fissures of some depth glowing like an aurora. The stars had been all but blocked out by the unusual shine, as the air was covered in blackened petals fluttering around wildly. There was a faint sense of calm, but the dangerous kind of calm one experiences within the center of a tornado.

The girl did not look at her, but the head of shaggy pink hair turned slightly in her direction.

" _ **Distract him."**_

 _What…?_

" _ **Distract him, idiot. Something unexpected."**_

A little affronted and still very confused, Alma pushed an answer.

 _Like…what?_

" _ **Fuck if I know. Show him your tits or something. I shouldn't be awake."**_

 _Wait who are-_

" _ **Someone who shouldn't be awake right now. Go!"**_

The annoyed voice of the girl, shoved Alma out of the garden-space, and back to reality.

Where the haze around Seth had begun to intensify. Feeling a vague sense of hyper-focus aiming towards _Becket_ – or rather the fact that Becket was the only armed person nearby – She quickly deduced that Seth was preparing to attack again, seeing Becket as some kind of threat.

Panicked she ran forward, seeing his form flicker between himself, and that strange girl.

"Seth wait!"

Of course, her words would do nothing. Why would they? He was in some kind of trance that…well…turned him _really_ dangerous, and made her _very very interested_. Still, he was beginning to move in a vaguely Becket-ward direction, something she definitely did not want.

 _Surprise him…? Ahh fuck it._

Pushing more force into her legs, she raced in front of him, and as his eyes locked onto hers, she pulled her dress down, exposing her breasts to the air. He paused, blinking, and in a supremely _stupid_ move when dealing with someone capable of blowing a friggin robot through a wall, she hopped up and grabbed his head, throwing it into her chest.

Now mind you, Alma Wade was not _stacked_. That is to say, back problems were not forecast in her future, due to boobage. But she wasn't lacking in the chest area either. Big enough to shove his face in between them.

For a moment, the haze _magnified_.

" _ **Hah. Nice."**_

And then it _vanished_ entirely.

 _ **Wh…what the tits?**_

"hu-uh-fuuh?"

She let out a sigh of relief…and kept his head right where it was.

At least until his arms flailed about for a few moments before he reached for hers. Pouting, she let him pull himself away, where he gave a very confused, exhausted look to her.

"The fuck…"

"I'll explain later? We need to get out of here. Our ride came."

"ahh…yeah? Ok…"

* * *

As it was, it turned out he barely remembered anything past the attempt to block the missiles.

"It's all just a…really weird jumbled mist."

Being told he _decimated_ the Replica forces, along with a heavily armed and armored attack helicopter, _and_ a walking suit of powered armor, threw him for a loop.

"Seriously? Shit…wish I knew how the hell I did it."

Though nothing more did so, than the fact that Alma was sitting on his leg, _refusing_ to fix her top. Of course Becket had injected unexpected humor.

"Considering she used to wander around naked we're lucky she didn't take the whole damn thing off."

"You'd like that now, wouldn't you Michael?"

"Alma I had no interest from the damn start."

"Pffblblblbt." Of course her response to that was to blow a raspberry.

It wouldn't be terribly long a drive to the FEAR Headquarters building, though it would be longer than their frantic race to the mall. The siren unfortunately had been blown off the roof of the APC during one of the many explosions. Still, that gave a little more time for them to try to wind down, even if Stokes and Becket were still a little wary being around Alma.

* * *

" _EVERYBODY ON THE FLOOR!"_

The sudden yell from out of nowhere made them all jump.

" _MM! Yeah! Mm! Oh MMmm_ _ **MM**_ _yeah!  
Where you think you goin, babee?  
I am Monster Truck-_ _ **I Am Monster Truck.**_ _"_

As their hearts calmed – no they _weren't_ suddenly under attack again – Seth sighed deeply, squirming around Alma's added weight to reach into his pocket and pull out his cellphone, the source of the shout and…sudden sung words.

" _Where you think you goin, babee?  
I am Monster Truck-_ _ **I Am Monster Tr-EVERYBODY ON THE FLOO-**_

"Yea-

" _Master! You have-_

The shock of suddenly having a very loud voice blasting in his ear caused him to flinch.

And accidentally put the call on speaker.

" _ **-to get out of there!"**_

"Orac-

" _ **There'sastupidlypowerfuldemonwomancomingandshe'sstrongenoughtodestroythewholeworldandnotevenyourpowerswillprobablykeepyousafeand-**_

"Oracle."

" _ **-iknowishouldhavewarnedyousoonerbutihaventbeensleepingandivebeenpressedfortimewiththewholefinalsthingand-**_

"Oracle!"

" _ **-I'mreallysorrybutshesstupiddangerousandyouneedtogetasfarawayfromwhereveryouareaspossiblebecauseicantseeheranymoreantthatmeansshesnearyouand-**_

Where before she was staring at his cellphone in surprise, suddenly formed an image before her eyes. The picture of a young woman with long blue hair, and aristocratically sharp features. Slightly slanted sky blue eyes, a narrow pointed nose, small, thin lips, a heart shaped face, and…for a moment, she was completely naked. Alma blinked at that, only to see the girl become garbed in a tight black dress down to her thighs, a pair of elbow-length fingerless gloves lined with small belts, a grey choker with a strange hourglass pin right under the chin, black short boots that only went above the ankle, and a pair of lace black stockings.

The image became extremely clear for all of three seconds.

" _ **MEDEA SELENE WOLFE!"**_

Alma, and the others _jumped_ in surprise at the shout. Not that it was overly loud, but that they could _all_ feel some kind of _force_ in the words.

The voice on the other end, went silent.

"What are you."

" _...i am nothing."_

That made them all confused, and Kiera Stokes, mildly concerned. Especially at the very quiet, almost dead sounding response.

"Where are you."

"… _I am nowhere."_

"Who are you."

"… _I am nobody."_

"Good. Hello. Maddy."

"… _good afternoon Master."_

The concern wasn't really going away.

"Now, do it again. Slowly."

" _Yes Master. Sorry Master."_

"Continue."

" _You are in danger."_

"Every day."

" _There is a being capable of bringing about the end of the world in your area."_

"You've seen this?"

" _Not anymore, but yes. She is capable of wiping out entire cities just by existing in them."_

"Describe her."

" _About my height. Long, black hair. Glowing red eyes."_

"Outfit?"

" _She's naked, Master."_

"Sounds like my kind of woman."

" _She would, if being near her wouldn't flay the flesh off of your bones in seconds."_

Alma's head turned to look at Seth, who had a weary grin on his face.

"I dunno…" He tilted his head to look right back at her. "I think there's a certain _bone_ she'd rather get out of me."

"… _Master?"_

"You're late, Maddy. She's already here. Sitting on my lap, actually."

" _Wh-but…what?!"_

"It's fine, Maddy. She's…tame…for lack of a better word."

"… _how…but…"_

"What is Truth?"

" _Only Nothing."_

He nodded.

"I'm guessing you Saw her…and then Saw her disappear?"

" _Yes…Master. She was like a constant specter floating overhead. The end of the world in fire and demons was coming and it just kept getting louder and closer but then she vanished again and-_

"Wait, what do you mean again?"

"… _she's disappeared from my Sight once before."_

"When?"

"… _the week you went to Fairport for the funeral."_

He leaned back at that, looking pensive. "…but I never ran into her…or anything weird at all."

" _It doesn't matter Master. Wherever you are, I cannot See."_

"…and that's why you got worried. Because up till now, you were seeing her consistently and…how long has she been gone?"

" _Only a day. But…the visions were…getting worse…the past week."_

"Why didn't you tell me?"

" _I…was being stupid."_

He snorted. "Yes. Yes you were."

" _My finals are in two days and I've been…"_

"Overstressing yourself, as always?"

"… _yes sir."_

"Fool."

" _I know."_

"So why didn't you warn me this morning?"

"… _my phone was dead and I was out of the house. I went to the nearest library to charge it but…I must have passed out while waiting. I called as soon as I woke up but…"_

"Too late, eh?"

" _I'm sorry Master."_

"What have I told you, Maddy?"

"… _not to focus so much on the future that I lose sight of the now."_

"Sounds like you're still trying to Look beyond your station."

"… _I can't help it. I get…worried."_

"I know. Wait. I think I caught something. Four days?"

"… _I said I've been stupid."_

"I cannot Fool hard enough, woman."

" _That would be something terrifying to see."_

"No shit. How are you not…how are you functioning?"

"… _eeeeehhhh…"_

He sighed, shaking his head. "Figured as much. Alright. _Where_ are you?"

" _Mid-town. An hours walk from home. Twenty…twenty minutes bus ride to yours."_

"Here's what you're going to do. You, are going to get on that bus. The key is with **Silent Fang**. You're going to go in, feed Shiki and Yurine, and then you're going to feed yourself, go into my room, hop on my bed, and pass the fuck out. I know what my room does to you, and you need it."

" _Master I don't-_

"Medea. That's an _order_."

"… _as my Lord commands, I Obey."_

"Damn right. Go get some rest Maddy. I probably won't be there till late. And I'm likely bringing a guest."

"… _yes sir. Thank you sir."_

"The Walk is fraught with perils as it is, Oracle. You don't need to make more of your own."

" _I know…I'm sorry."_

"Get rest. We'll work on your _stumble_ after your finals are done."

"… _you…said she's with you?"_

"Yeeeesss…?"

"… _Alma."_

"…yeah?"

"… _if anything happens to him…_ _ **destroy it all.**_ _"_

She could feel his surprise. Hell she felt her own. This…random girl was… _telling_ her to destroy the world if something happened to-

 _Now I really wonder what their relationship is…_

"That…that I can do."

"… _good. I will see you soon, Master."_

The line went dead. Seth gave a weary sigh and leaned back in the seat. "Baka onna…"

 _ **Keep telling her to get proper sleep but that never happens. Uuughh I have half a mind to just demand she move into my friggin room at this point…only thing that seems to keep the visions away.**_

"…so uhh…" Stokes began. "Not to pry or anything but _what the hell was that_?"

"Yeah…sorry." He sat up, twitching as Alma suddenly started massaging the back of his neck.

"Still gotta get used to you _knowing_ shit like that…" he muttered to her.

She just pat him on the head and continued.

"Medea…is one of many people in the world with supernatural powers. Hers, are focused on _time_. Rather, the future. Precognition, premonition, she's got it all. Medea Wolfe, is a girl who has known the day she was going to die, since she was five years old. But rather than become a hedonistic shitbag, she decided to use her time on the planet to make people's lives better. To…become remembered, in her own way."

He leaned forward, as Alma was treated still to the sight of the girl, now known to be called 'Medea'.

"She was top of her class in everything she did. Never once using her powers to cheat on her tests even though some days it became really hard to ignore. She was fairly popular, fairly liked, and ran a low-cost fortune-telling service for her classmates. And by low-cost I mean five bucks a reading. No matter what reading it was."

He took a breath and continued.

"Her predictions were extremely accurate, her claims irrefutable. Everything would unfold exactly as she predicted. This is because of the nature of her powers. While her power was Time, it was specifically, _definition_. Things that would always Be. She saw absolutions. She saw what _was_. Her power focused on things that were not up to chance, but rather, going to happen with almost complete certainty.

And then she met me."

He chuckled.

"She _hated_ me. Well…hate is probably the wrong term. She was _afraid_. I was, for some reason, the only person in her whole life, that she could not read. Every time she tried, she'd apparently see nothing but a black void. An empty sky, so to speak. It scared her. So she kinda became a little…flighty around me. Wouldn't be near me for long if she could avoid it. So then one day in Junior year, during a Lit-arts trip to some printing office or whatever the hell it was, some guys showed up in armor and toting guns and held up the place."

He shrugged at their stares.

"Long story short, they started some shit, took us as hostages while I was _taking_ a shit, I found from one of her friends that she had gone with them willingly to be the first one killed should their demands not be met, - which, spoilers: they weren't – and I kinda…flipped out a little."

"… _ **wouldn't say just a little…"**_

"How so?" Becket pushed.

"Well…you've seen what I can do. More than I'm aware of, apparently…but, basically they were going to shoot her, while she just sat there on her knees with a calm look on her face like she was just meditating or some bullshit. And well…I blew the gun out of his hand, and snapped all of their limbs throwing them against the walls. She's giving me this shocked look, and I'm pissed as hell and I grab her and blow a window out with one of their bodies and ride the damn thing to the ground."

" _ **Just because you saw your own death doesn't mean you just sit back and let the bitch take you! If you want to die that badly then I'll fucking keep watch while you jump off a damn bridge like a fucking normal person! But don't just sit back and wait to die when you have a chance to change your fate! That's the whole damn point of being human! Guardians make their own fate!"**_

"Well, a week after that, we're in school again and I'm at my lunch table, alone as usual, and next thing I know, a backpack is being dropped next to my plate, a booted leg is sliding over the bench and suddenly there's a blue-haired beauty sitting next to me, pulling out two bowls of salad and a small bottle of italian dressing, and then hands me one."

"Wait…what?" Katie blurted.

"I know right? I'm just as baffled. She gives me this look and says that I scare the everloving hell out of her, but ever since that day, she hasn't been able to see her death again, no matter how hard she focuses."

" _ **You changed something. Something I thought couldn't be changed. I saw definites. Things that couldn't be altered. And then you came and altered it. I can't see you. I can't see anything about you. And that scares me. That's why I was…not very kind. I'm sorry. But you…you weren't afraid. You just acted. I…you're right. I shouldn't have waited. I've known I was going to die there since I was a child. But then you came. And I didn't die. I'm still alive. And I'm confused. But you're the difference, the thing that changed it all. So please…**_

 _ **Teach me how to not be afraid of Nothing."**_

"So since then, I've been her teacher in all things Nothing. She's not completely ready to deal with it all on her own yet but she's been doing good these past few years. It helps that when her visions get too much or too frequent or too chaotic, there's something about my room that just…blocks it all. So every now and then I have her sleep over."

"Are you two dating?" Stokes asked.

"Nothing like that. I mean, she's cute as all hell. And we've gone a couple rounds in the sack over the years but there's…it's more of a really odd teacher-student kind of relationship. Which is made odder cause she was tutoring me in math for my last year of highschool so…yeah it's hard to describe. We're close, but we arent _together_ , y'know? The romance spark isn't there. We've got everything else but that romantic angle just doesn't want to be played, so we don't push it. We are what we are for one another and that's what we're comfortable with."

"So when I break your bed she won't be jealous?" Hello Alma.

Everyone looked at her.

"You _really_ have no filter do you?"

Embarrassed and annoyed with herself again, her face turned red and she just reacted, punctuating her next statement with an embarrassed slap on his shoulder.

"I! Don't! Know! How! To! People!"

* * *

Further questions came, such as the true nature of the relationship. The Teacher-student aspect was explained but…

"So…is it just a kink thing then?"

The response was what took up the rest of the trip back to the FEAR headquarters.

It was not so much kink as it was, allocation of meaning. To Medea, Seth represented that which cannot be known ahead of time. Her vision of her death had not waivered up until the moment he involved himself. A being who can change absolution into probability, was dangerous and fearsome indeed. A bringer of absolute chaos. So she refers to him as a 'Chaos Lord'. A being whose very presence can alter even the most secure of facts.

"Maddy spent all of her life living by one rule: her visions were absolute. She started having them when she was five, I saved her life at seventeen. That's twelve years of growing up, of living, believing one thing is absolute truth. And then I _changed_ that. It's been a few years but a few years doesn't beat out over a decade of living a certain way, especially when you threw your entire being into that belief."

He explained that she was, even after this much time, still adjusting to her powers having a level of inaccuracy. As she peered at the fringes of Unknown, sometimes, she got uncertain. Where once was absolute confidence, now became a shaky platform of uncertainty. She had no reason to disbelieve her visions, other than the slap in the face of the fact that they could be changed. Not so much that her power had suddenly gained a flaw, leading to visions that were wrong, but that's how it felt. The injection into her reality that someone could completely twist what she saw as a definite outcome, shook her heavily.

The fear, sometimes grows too much, and the uncertainty overrides her common sense.

"She grew up with absolutions. Believed in them wholeheartedly. They were her truth, her rock. But now she knows that something exists that can change those visions. So she's uncertain. But she _needs_ that absolution. It was what defined her, it was how she defined herself."

Thus, Medea had requested of him – he, the one who can alter fate just by existing – that if she _wavers_ too much, that he correct her course.

"She feels she can't fully trust herself anymore at this time. But she now understands that the truest state of reality is its earliest and latest ones, nothingness. The way she explained it, is that if the _real_ truth of the universe is non-existence, then if I, who wanders through that state confidently, say something must be done, then it _has_ to be true."

It's a conditional request, and one built on a heavy foundation of trust. Its not a consistent thing either, but merely a request that has an activation trigger. If she waffles over something that they both know would be good for her, he can _order_ her to go through with the action. It's a replacement for her old belief in the absolution of her powers. She still wields them mightily, and often, but when it comes to herself, there is a taste of uncertainty. The complete blind faith in her visions and predictions is gone, replaced with a lesser belief, weakened by having an unexpected truth thrown in her face.

"She'd already technically been giving 'control' of her fate and life to her visions. So it's just swapping her immaterial sight for a person on the physical plane who has her well-being in mind. Something outside herself, to help her confirm what path she should take, now that Probability has been forcibly included in her Sight."

He cannot just spew a command. It has to be a juncture she is uncertain about. And more often than not, she makes the request for directions herself.

"She's got all her free will and everything. She just has moments where she can't make a choice on her own, and wants help doing so. Being that she used to believe in absolution, she just hands me the controls for a moment, I take over, have her do the thing, and she goes right back to normal."

"A fortune-teller for a fortune-teller, eh?" Stokes joked.

"Yeah pretty much."

"But what do you get out of it?" Alma asked.

He shrugged. "Not much really."

The truth of the matter was that Medea's power cannot predict him. He is akin to a void in her sight. Anywhere he is, she cannot see. Anything directly involved with him, she cannot predict. Over the years she's found some loopholes. If she can't see it, that means it's going to be involved with him. As long as it is so, she will not be able to see the event or object or person.

Thus, she has learned to give half-predictions. If she sees a swerving bus or a falling tree and suddenly its gone, that means he will be around during the event, and she can warn him of it. If she sees a dangerous criminal or a gas explosion or something major, and suddenly she stops being able to witness it, that means he will be in the area and she can warn him.

"Or if she sees a borderline god-like psychic capable of ripping the fabric of reality apart and suddenly that person vanishes…"

"I'm gonna be in it."

"Oh _yes_ you are." Alma _purred_ into his ear.

"Am I going to have to buy one of those damn phone controlled vibrators just to keep your apparently insatiable lust in control?" He countered.

Alma had _no_ idea what he was talking about until the image faded hazily into his head. A woman walking with a man behind her, before he whips out his phone and presses a button on its screen. Suddenly the woman twitches and starts having issues walking. Seconds later she's gripping the hem of her skirt and leaning on a shelf as her legs begin to spasm.

Alma's face grows hot and she stares at him.

"Only if you want me to trash half a store with psychic emissions because I jumped you right in the middle of an aisle."

 _ **Probably not the best of ideas then.**_

"Fair."

"So! Monster Truck eh?" Katelyn suddenly derails the conversation!

Seth blinked but then grinned. "The JDoolz special."

"Should I be waiting for any tales of Mark Nutt?"

"Honestly Katie if there were to be archery to be done I'd probably sucking _your_ Nutt."

She snorted at that, as the others looked on in confusion.

"I mean seriously I'd probably Geoff it so hard I'd somehow manage to arrow myself."

She opened her mouth.

"In the back of the head."

And promptly barked in laughter.

"To be fair," she said around chuckles. "He _Is_ just a Simple Farmer."

Seth nodded, eyes closed. "He don't know nothin' bout no computers or no jetpacks or none o' that them there blood magic. He knows chickens. And how to make 'em fuck."

The final turn into the garage, was met with Katelyn howling with laughter, at Seth's dead-on impression of a man only the two of them seemed to know of.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 05 –** _ **Aftermath**_

The office hadn't changed at all. Though it was the three newcomers' first steps into it, the addition of two more chairs helped, though it was going to be a little cramped. Speaking of, there were only _two_ more chairs added.

"I can wait outside…" Katelyn suggested, aware that it was Seth and Alma who were expected.

"I'd agree but unfortunately we need a statement from you as well." Betters spoke. "I'll have someone get…"

He trailed off as Alma walked up to one of the chairs and stared at it. Then back at Seth.

"…what."

She sighed, rolling her eyes, pointedly staring at the chair, then back to him.

"What? You're in _my_ head lady not the other way around."

"Huuugggghh!" Came the aggrieved response. "Sit!" She pointed at the chair.

"That was the plan…but where's-

She stomped over, grabbing his arm and pushing him into the chair. And then promptly sat on his lap, getting a loud noise of expelled voiced air.

"Problem solved."

" _Must_ you constantly sit on me?"

"I'll sit on your face."

"I'm aware you want to do that. In fact there are very likely at this moment, people uncovering tablets from lost caverns of Babylonia, that will be later translated to proclaim that 'Alma Wade wants to sit on his face.' They will then proceed to herald this as the second coming of Gilgamesh and seek out whosoever the scriptures speak of."

 _ **Actually that'd be pretty badass. I'd like to have my own Gate of Babylon…**_

"Ughh, can you two flirt later? This is kind of important." Becket cut in.

To which Alma merely turned to him and blew another raspberry. "Jealous."

"Tired and confused, more like."

"Hmph." She crossed her arms and turned her nose at him. Which actually made Seth give a soft sigh, wrap _his_ arms around her waist and pull her back towards him.

Of course, she gave a low moan once he did, as the sound of gentle waves and jingling chimes began echoing in her mind.

Seeing that the woman had become…sedated, Betters took over. "Commissioner Rodney Betters." He introduced himself to the two…err, three.

"Selh'teus Rodin. I'd shake your hand but mine are currently full with horny psychic."

"Break your bed…" said psychic muttered, having turned around to cling to him.

"I can see that. Miss Stokes, it's good to see you're alright. Your cousin was worried." He nodded to the other newcomer.

"Katie, please. And…yeah. It was…yeah." She sat in the second empty chair, a mite heavily. As if the weight of the day's events were finally hitting her.

"This is Jin Sun-Kwon. She's our Tech and Medical operative."

"he liked you."

Came out of nowhere, from Alma.

"E-excuse me?" the Korean woman responded.

Alma's head rose, pushing back the sound of the water, turning to face the other black haired woman in the room.

"My son. He liked you. The last thing I got from him before I lost track of him, was that he was worried you would be ok."

Jin leaned back, surprised at the information.

"…wait you have a _son_?"

Alma's head whirled back to Seth, who was staring at her in surprise.

 _ **Dafuq woman?**_

Her head lowered. "…two…actually. Well…one's dead…killed by the other."

 _ **Nani?!**_

He just stared at her.

"…heavy, monstrous shit…ne?"

 _ **Oi. Look at me, woman.**_

Her head snapped up, surprised that the thought was _directed_ at her.

"Missing the ice cream but…we're around people who are apparently tied into things. Catch me up?"

She didn't look at anyone else. Only him.

After all, he was one of only two people that _truly_ mattered to her.

"My name is Alma Wade, and I was born August 26th, in the year 1979."

 _ **WHAT.**_

"That'd make you like…fifty?"

"Forty-eight…actually."

"What the _hell_ did you eat cause you don't look a day over twenty!"

A sheepish smile. "An entire timeline?"

… _ **yeah that would…probably…keep someone young…**_

He just blinked at her. She blushed but continued.

"I told you…when I was young my powers showed up and started growing. Well…" She took a deep breath.

"When I was eight my father was convinced to seal me away in some specially made tube in a metal ball and they knocked me out for years. Next thing I know I'm older and in a lot of pain and I'm learning I'm in labor."

 _ **WHAT.**_

"I didn't even get the chance to hold the baby I'd just put out before my father is telling people to take me back to the Vault. I'd have splattered them but I was confused and scared and just wanted to _hold_ the damn thing but next I know I'm unconscious again, before some time passes and I'm forced to give birth a second time."

As his eyebrows rose in surprise, and Katelyn gave a soft gasp of horrified shock, she _felt_ a growl ripple through the air. Not entirely sure what it was but remembering it tied into the _girl_ , she pushed on, hoping to beat _her_ awakening.

Whoever _she_ was, she had stated her lack of desire of being awake. And her being awake, was tied to _him_.

Somehow.

"They knocked me out again but my powers kept growing so even in the suppressing field I had a small bit of influence. By the time my second son was ten, I was able to touch his mind and speak with him. I…was pissed. And being bombarded by everyone's negativity didn't help. I kinda went nuts and…he flipped out and killed some people. Then they killed me. Took me off life support. But my powers kept me alive for a few more years."

"Pure hatred is a hell of a drug…" he muttered to her.

She nodded. "It really is. I died at…uhh…"

"Twenty-six." Jin said softly. Alma glanced at her and nodded.

"Twenty-six."

"But your psychic presence was self-contained I presume?"

"Yes. Whatever Armacham was doing with me and my children…it didn't stop. But it was suspended. But even dead my powers kept growing so…flash to about a year ago and…some dumb _bitch_ thought it a good idea to start things up again."

"Wait…were you…part of that nuclear explosion?"

She nodded. "That was where my Vault was. But that's jumping ahead a bit. Basically, because some idiot went poking around where she shouldn't have, the Vault was opened and my psychic presence leaked out. I started connecting to a lot of various minds. Including the mind of my second son. When we reconnected he…snapped entirely, his only focus being my wish; to be free, and to _slaughter_ everyone responsible."

"And I guess that's what happened, huh? I remember the news reports. Grizzly murders in the Auburn district a few nights before the explosion."

And then he froze.

"…oh so _that's_ what Maddy meant…" he muttered.

"Medea?"

"When she said you'd vanished once before. I was _in_ Auburn. Well, _near_ it. For a week. I'd literally just gotten back when the explosion happened. You must have just started leaking out…"

"Probably. I don't remember your mind though…I'd never forget it."

He nodded, she continued.

"I don't know what it was; guilt, jealousy, exhaustion, but my father, Harlan Wade, decided to set me free himself. I killed him, of course, after all, _he_ was the one who threw me in there and never even visited, then tried to turn me into some…hu-cow for his stupid projects; and even then, I was…so broken and twisted from all the hate and being dead and not really understanding how to really move in an older body even if it was just a shell I just…"

"Splattered him."

"Melted the flesh right off his bones and shattered the skeleton against a wall."

"Good."

She stopped at that. "G-good?!" She eyed him, shocked. He shrugged.

"Karma. Yeah sure, having a stupidly powerful little girl as a psychic capable of melting people that get too close is…barely comprehensible. But after sealing you away, a _real_ father would have been dedicating his life's work to either figuring out how to help you contain your powers so you could live slightly normally, how to negate them, to turn you 'normal', or at least how the damn things got started in the first place, so other little boys and girls wouldn't have to have the same thing happen to them."

She blinked, tears in her eyes. "You…don't…"

"Why would I hate someone who was twisted into a demon through no fault of their own? Death comes for us all and it's not like you _wanted_ to be an avenging specter of death and destruction. You had no choice in the matter. You said you were unconscious for so many years, how long have you _really_ been awake for?"

"Wrapped in my insanity, a collective of maybe two and a third years. Conscious and…and trying to not be…who I was…? A year…tops."

"So ignoring any data you drank in over the year you've been aware of yourself, you've got a collective experience total of what…thirteen years? And you're in the body of a twenty-something year old, but you're _actually_ damn near fifty?"

"yeah…" she whispered.

"Alma you were turned into a literal horror movie villain. No choice no possible path forward other than murder murder murder. Sure, you've done terrible things, but you were a living Sword. Can't blame a sword for being sharp. Blame the hand that wields it."

"…but no hand was wielding me…"

" _Exactly_. Didn't you say it yourself? You don't know how to people."

"…you…have no idea how close I am to ripping my clothes off."

"I do believe that's the first time I've been _threatened_ with nudity."

She gave a sad giggle. "I'm…not done though."

"Oh god what now."

"These guys, behind me. They had my _first_ son. He was working with them."

"You mentioned something about that."

She nodded. "He was invisible to me. Well, not invisible. He was there, but I couldn't get into his head. So I'd thought him some monster. We threw everything we had at him but he lived through it all. And then when he was close enough, I learned. He killed my second son, rightfully so, seeing as…well, all the deaths…including my sister…"

"Wait you have-had a sister?"

She nodded again. "Alice. I was…jealous. Very, very jealous. She was normal. And she was obviously loved by my father because from what I was able to grab from _his_ memories she was _retardedly_ loyal to him. Literally, retardedly."

"And that got her killed."

She sighed. "If she'd just listened to Betters and allowed herself to be put into protective custody she'd maybe still be alive."

Betters, surprisingly enough, confirmed that. "It's true. She refused to go with us at any point."

Alma nodded. "She died because she was stubborn and afraid. Maybe the deranged me would have gone after her at some point but…if she'd just listened she'd have probably lived."

"Clinging to the Known, the foolish will ignore all Possibility for the sake of what they can claim Is." Katelyn suddenly spouted, causing everyone to turn to her.

"…wh-what?"

"Therefore at such Time, the Wise can only Speak, in hopes that the Foolish will learn to Believe in the Unknown."

Heads now turned to Seth.

"Parables of the Void, chapter three: Division."

"You read that too?" Katie asked, pushing past the anxiety.

"Pfft, I _wrote_ it."

"Wait! You're the one who wrote 'Knowing the Unknown' by Nothingness Ascendant?!"

"You're looking at him. It was Medea's idea but…"

"Holy shit…I have…so many questions."

"Later? I'd be happy to answer them. It was kind of a stream of consciousness thing."

She nodded wildly.

"You wrote a book?" Alma asked.

"Stream of consciousness turned into one but yeah."

"And it's published?"

"Shockingly enough."

"What's it about?"

"Fear. Uncertainty. Anxiety. It's about not knowing who you are or where you're going or why you're even bothering. It's about turning yourself blank and understanding that ultimately, you don't matter. But because of that, because you're so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, you can become whatever you wish. You can make yourself matter by embracing your pointlessness, and simply doing the opposite. I mean, there's more to it than that but…that's the general idea of it."

"I'd like to read it."

"Got a copy at the house, I'll give it to you later."

She nodded. That exchange complete, she continued.

"…ok so my sister's dead. Second son has a bullet in his head. I'm freed. The place gets blown up because they were tricked into doing Armacham's clean-up job for them. Then…Michael."

"Ughh…I hate this part…" Becket grumbled.

"At some point before the boom, the _bitch_ had lured Michael and his team to her. When the place went up, they were all knocked out and captured and experimented on. All of them save the girl, had some psychic potential already but it was less than what it could have been. The experiments, and multiple operations, forcibly woke that up, drawing my attention. I was looking for my surviving son, but was distracted by them."

"And by you, you mean the just released you?"

"Yes. Long story short, Michael was attuned to my psychic presence, and his resistance to being splattered made me interested in him, where…"

"You tried, and almost succeeded in the end, to rape the hell out of me."

"…I never apologized for that, did I?"

"Technically you did."

"…wait what? I did?"

"Let's just say a…piece of you was the reason I'm alive, and leave it at that."

She looked at Becket, confused. But then shook her head. "If you say so."

"So…what?" Seth blarged.

"Insane…remember? At the time, I was just a jumbled mess of clashing emotions and…I got an idea in my head. I'd already had babies before but I never got to actually _be_ with them. So…I wanted a new one. And I wanted it from him."

"…I think I get it now."

"You…do?"

"Instinct-born drive on a near animalistic level. You weren't thinking in human terms, but nature terms. Ones corrupted by your situation. Having no emotional filter, or at least, one that was severely damaged, all you knew was Want. And nothing was going to stop you."

"Yes! That's exactly what it felt like! I just…wanted. And wanted and wanted and I was in so much pain and so angry but I wanted _love_ so badly because I never _felt_ it and…those three are the last ones alive…"

"What did you do?"

"I killed them. Three of them. One of them was killed during the operations to wake their powers. One was a husband and father of a girl almost the age I was when I was sealed away. I killed him because my…call…had driven him almost entirely insane and he wanted to claim me…but also because I was angry and jealous that he was a father that _loved_."

"Terrible, but understandable. The next?"

"A man…like you…who could resist me. He recognized what I was, as I was, at the last second, and tried to fight. He died, because I was just that much more powerful."

"I see. And the last?"

"Harold…Harold Keegan. The closest one to me without extra attunement. He…became enthralled. He died from psychic burnout. He lasted the longest, other than Michael. He…he could have been great, you know. A little bit of adjustment and…he would have been perfect for that stupid psychic commander bullshit…only sane."

"Good men?"

"Great men. Strong men. Wonderful men. They never should have been involved."

"Not by choice?"

"We were redirected from Armacham headquarters to pick up their President at her penthouse suite. Nobody knew it was a ruse to capture us and turn us into…satellite dishes to try to contain Alma."

Alma nodded. "If it wasn't for that _bitch_ they would have all survived the week."

"So why are you…this?"

"…I don't know. I really don't. All I remember is that…something happened in that last chamber. Where Michael was being…he was having his powers amplified to try to be able to fight me on equal ground. But I was there too. I remember…being atop him, but next thing I know I'm seeing visions of a _terrible_ future if I went through with it and I just…got scared. The biggest thing I can remember is just this…very very powerful _need_ to **Be Better.** "

"So…you had a premonition or something?"

"Or something. I can't explain it and I…I don't know why I don't remember how I learned. It just came out of nowhere. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in a younger body, with the ability to not be so wildly emitting my psychic field, but…"

"No other control."

"Not until we smacked into each other."

"And that was a year later? This, is a year later?"

"mmhmm."

 _ **I knew I should have had ice cream for this.**_

Alma gave a watery laugh. "Why ice cream?"

"Why not? Plus it's a known fact that sad stories need to be paired with ice cream or chocolate to try to make people feel better."

"Not going to be able to afford _that_ for a while…" muttered Katie.

"Ehh? Why not?" Seth asked.

She turned a blank stare to him. "Because _someone_ blew up the mall where _both_ of my jobs were."

"Oh riiight. That happ-

" _ **EUCALYPTUUUU-**_

A sudden yell reverberated through the room, making everyone jump.

"Gah! Sorry, sorry, that's me agai-…wait."

 _ **Why'd it cut off like that?**_

He reached into his pocket, causing Alma to stand, pulling out his phone and…

"Agh goddammit. Battery's dead? Really? Must have forgot to charge it."

Katelyn sighed. "…give it here."

 _ **Dafuq for?**_

Still, he did so, handing it over. She looked at it a bit, turning it over in her hands, before staring harshly.

" **Qo Mul Dal."**

A visible spark of electricity raced along the surface of his phone, originating from her fingers. Tapping the power button on the back, the phone entered its startup sequence, where she handed it back to him.

"There. It won't last longer than about fifteen minutes but…"

"Did…did you just _shout_ at my phone to turn it on?!"

She blinked grinning sheepishly. "…kinda?"

"Are you the _fucking_ Dragonborn?! You can _Shout_?! Why were you working in a damn lingerie store if you can do that!" he inquired incredulously.

"It's not _shouting_ it's…like your Aria."

"Final question stands!"

"I work at a _tech shop_. Worked. Whatever. The lingerie thing was temporary till my store was done being renovated. But now I don't even have _that_."

Quickly looking at his phone,

 _ **Ahh good. Like I thought that was Maddy. She made it.**_

He then turned it off and looked back at Katie.

"If you want, I'll look into finding you a place to work. Electronics preferred?"

She shrugged. "I'm…pretty alright with them. If anything shorts out or overloads…well…"

"Fuckin lightning elemental."

She shrugged again, the grin returning. "I'm no Sith Lord and pushing too much out burns my hands but…I make do."

"Two in one day. A Psychic and a damn Lightning Bender. You know how to wield it?"

"Well enough, thanks."

"Offer's on the table if you want any help ironing it out."

"If I need to I'll look you up."

He nodded.

"What just…?" Alma asked.

"She, (he pointed to Katelyn) is apparently attuned to electricity. To what extent is her business but she at least has enough power and control to temporarily jumpstart my phone's battery. And let me tell you, what little I know about voltage differences that takes a _lot_ of control. And smarts. You're a friggin genius, Katie."

A semi-smug grin was his response. "I try. Sometimes."

"And…the 'shouting' thing?"

"Video game thing. Elder Scrolls Skyrim. The main character gains the power to distort reality through Words of Power spoken in the Tongue of Dragons. Its shorthanded to be called 'Shouting' because usually it sounds like it's yelled at the top of their lungs. Normal living beings can learn how to Shout but it takes _years_ of intense training and meditation."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because to actually gain any kind of effect it's not enough just to speak the words, you have to understand the meaning behind the concept." Katie answered. "The earliest Shout the player gets is _Fus_ , meaning Force. It's not until one has an intimate understanding of what 'force' is, that someone could speak _Fus_ and get any result. For Dragons, its instinctive knowledge and understanding. And for the _Dovahkiin_ , or Dragonborn, they are a mortal born with the soul of a Dragon within them, and by slaying a dragon, can gain that knowledge of concept, instantly bypassing the need of meditation or training."

"What she said."

"And…your Aria is…the shouting?"

"Kind of. It…well it's like _he_ said. Just something that helps me focus."

"I have no idea what any of you are talking about but it sounds _interesting_." Jin spoke, a small smile on her face.

"Gamer stuff that ends up being useful in real life due to the existence of supernatural powers." Seth responded casually.

"Is that why you're so…okay with Alma? And all the terrible things she did?" Stokes pushed. Seth just shrugged.

"I have a very…unusual set of views on life and death. And balance and murder. Why would I be mad at her for not having control and going on a reactionary murder spree when I killed my own mother with my powers."

That silenced the room.

"…you what."

Again he shrugged. "She was a psychotic manipulative shrew that needed psychological help since she was a damn teenager but nobody dragged her sorry ass to get it. Her father, my grandfather, just let her do whatever after she reached adulthood deciding it was easier to let her have her way than to try to argue, because he fucked up royally in letting her mother kidnap her away and have her raised with her abusive grandmother."

The deadpan delivery kept them quiet.

"In the end, she had me, something that never should have been, and by my mid teens I realized I was supposed to be a _trophy child_ , meant to prove that she was sane and stable enough to live a 'normal' life, when in reality she wasn't stable at all but everyone including _my_ father, and her husband my step-father, just would rather let her do what she wanted while she ranted and raved and acted a petty fucking bitch about everything, taking the slightest things personally and trying to twist stories to make herself sound like some paragon of good behavior."

He rolled his eyes.

"So one day she tries to hold me responsible for a choice she made, making herself locked out of the house cause she gave the key to some cousin of hers but nobody wanted to give her theirs to make a spare off of because either it was old and worn down but still functional, or, in my case, because I didn't know or trust the guy and wanted nothing to do with the decision to give him access to the house at any time without supervision. Well, she pissed me off while yelling at me and threatening to have the locks changed while there's a knife in her hands as she's decided to try to yell me down while leaving the kitchen and next thing I know I'm telling her to shut the fuck up and she's going flying down the stairs, cracking her head open on the railing and landing with the knife in her back."

Stares. And then his eyes turned _feral_.

"Truly such a pity she tripped so harshly. After all, it's not _my_ fault she liked to come home and immediately start drinking after work, but before cooking dinner. One's balance is hard to keep when inebriated, after all."

"…you weren't…charged at all?"

"Oh they tried. But they couldn't prove jack shit. There were no physical marks on her from me at all, and there were obvious signs of inebriation. Only reason why I silently accepted responsibility for it was because I witnessed the trash start to lift on its own right before she was sent to her doom. But then again, that's what friggin happens when you build up years of hatred by being a petty cunt. I was always the only one to call her out on her shit but then she'd just turn it on me and have everyone acting like I was some kind of troublemaker. Well, my grandfather learned how to keep his stupid mouth shut after I broke his arm when he tried to manhandle me one day. He got thrown into a wall and his elbow got snapped. Didn't take long for him to pay for a place for me to live away from all of them. Then he died and left me an old vacation home he'd bought years ago on an Indian burial site that was long since defaced by the Settlers, with the request I make some proper graves for the dead."

He shrugged.

"I get a small house on the outskirts of the city, my book and some odd jobs here and there pay the bills, and all the people tied to my own personal shitty conditions growing up are either dead or so far out of my life I can act like they don't exist. Compared to her?" he jerked his thumb towards Alma. "I had it pretty good."

"But you killed your _mother_."

"She killed _herself_. I didn't even _have_ powers before then. That was the first use of them and was, as you'd expect, from _stress_. We've got a literal X-Men situation going on where people are gaining Power during extremely stressful or emotional times. People will die because of it. People will be injured because of it. People will _live_ because of it. I feel no guilt nor remorse because she _never should have been allowed to have children_. But she acted like I was some hellspawn simply because after thirteen I refused to play her little guilt games. She died, because she was an _idiot_ , and her father was a self-important jackass who thought the world should operate how he wanted, when he wanted. The whole family is filled with idiots and shitbags that I wouldn't waste time pissing out the flames if they were on fire."

"But you just admitted you killed her." Jin countered.

"Yeah but it's not like _you_ can do anything about it." Alma stiffened.

The _growl_ came back. Louder.

"What makes you think that?"

He again, gestured to Alma.

"Her."

She closed her eyes and nodded.

"I need him."

Her eyes opened, and there was a distinct red tint.

"Far more than I need any of you."

"Is that a threat?" Betters hedged.

"A promise. I've done far worse than he did. I was in control. To an extent. One person died from his powers, and that's when they first showed up. I splattered at least five people when I was a child, before I tried to hold them back. You're dealing with something even _we_ don't understand, and _we're_ the ones with the power. I should…I should be in labor right now. The sky should be cracking wide open, monsters from your greatest nightmares should be walking the streets cackling with blooded teeth. Armacham should be running wild in all of Fairport while hundreds are driven slowly insane from my powers. But _none_ of that is happening, by sheer, dumb luck."

She grabbed Seth's hands.

"And he's the one keeping it from ever occurring. Neither of us knows what's going on or why, but when I _touched_ him, I was pulled into his mind without problem. Neither of us feeling pain. He doesn't even feel me inside. But I'm there. And its calm. And when _both_ our hands touched it got _better_. I was already home but then I felt like I _belonged_. This is the _best_ I've felt in my entire _life_."

She shook her head violently. "I…I want my son back. But…I know for a fact, I can't live the way I did before. I _need_ this. I need _him_. No matter what. **Nothing** will take him from me."

She recalled her resolution.

"I want to _live_. And I'll _crush_ anything that tries to stop me."

And _that_ is when they _all_ felt the pressure. It was as if a weight had suddenly been applied to their shoulders, pressing down. Not heavily, but noticeable. Even Becket could barely resist.

"…ok _that_ I can feel." Seth said suddenly.

And then just like that, the weight was gone.

"Sorry…"

"No no, it's fine. It's distasteful to _lord_ it over the common man but sometimes beings of Power have to remind the normal ones exactly what it is they're dealing with. Do it too much and you fester resentment and create a drive to learn how to counter and defeat the Ascended. Proper application and knowing when to do so is key to being able to live peacefully while having a lot of power."

She nodded. "So don't throw my field around even once I get full control over it."

"Low profile. Use your power when needed, sometimes when wanted, but don't overdo it cause otherwise someone might start paying too close attention."

"And if they do?"

"See if you can get them on your side. And if you can't, apologize, but wipe them decisively. I prefer to _re_ act rather than act. I don't like throwing the first punch, but the second and last."

"Don't be the aggressor, be the aggressed?"

"Yep. Do it that way and it's easier to deal with pesky things like law enforcement. Don't goad, don't taunt, just let them be idiots and attack first. Then reverse their attack into their own destruction."

"I think I get it…but what if you know they're planning something?"

"Confirm as best you can, then step in, I guess. Sometimes you _have_ to make the first move. And other times it's better to do so in order to control the intensity."

"…like…changing a life or death situation into one that just ends in injuries and unconsciousness at worst?"

"Exactly. Power is to be wielded. But Know it. And Wield it Properly."

"For what…should I be wielding my Power?" She asked, sincerely.

"That…is only something _you_ can decide. Use power for the Right things, or at least the things you Believe in."

"…what I Believe in…" she muttered to herself. And then sighed.

"This…I needed this."

"Hmm?"

"You. Someone. A teacher. Nobody…everyone wanted to run tests and see _what_ I could do. Nobody…wanted to know _how_ or _why_. It was all about them, not me…"

"And in their neglect, almost brought about the end of the world."

She nodded.

"An entire timeline, huh?"

Her head rose and she gave a hesitant smile.

"Pretty much."

"Well, for someone who devoured an entire future and thus all the lives that it entailed, you've kept a pretty nice figure."

She blushed and just clutched his arm tighter.

One…might be wondering why nobody else was speaking.

But that short conversation held only between Alma and Seth threw it in their faces the reality of his statement.

He may have indirectly killed his mother – reaction-based power awakening or not – but even if he had flat out murdered her with his own physical two hands, they could do nothing. Because the most powerful psychic on the planet was wrapped around his finger.

Or maybe rather, they were wrapped around each other's fingers.

The brief display of power had reminded the FEAR Commissioner and support operative, _exactly_ who they were dealing with. As it did for Stokes and Becket, throwing them back to having watched their friends be _melted_ at her whim. And now, this one young man held all the cards in the situation. Nothing could be done without provoking Alma's wrath, which if her brief description of the bad future was to be believed, is great enough to shatter reality itself.

And truly _should_ anything be done? Combat operatives kill frequently, and from the sounds of things, she was going to get herself beaten if not killed by someone _else_ sooner or later. Murder was never a good thing, but…

Some people _earned_ their deaths.

Becket had caught Betters' eye and softly shook his head, reinforcing the notion to _not_ go after this guy. Ultimately he'd done nothing wrong, and you couldn't slap a murder charge on someone who had no control over the situation wherin someone died. You could try, but…

In this case, not only would it be pointless, but they would all likely be slaughtered by Alma for it.

"So is that all?" Seth asked, not a hint of pettiness or smugness in his voice. No that's not sarcasm. He knows he's got Power over them. But he's aware he has Power over many things. He just doesn't care unless he's forced to.

"…I still need your statements on what happened at the Mall."

"Ah. Right. Paperwork. The bane of any organization."

"Don't I fuggin know it…" Betters muttered.


	7. Acclimation

Ultimately the meeting wound down with no more major events or statements occurring. However, upon mentioning that he now had to figure out where the nearest bus station was, and Alma mentioning she had never _intentionally_ teleported more than just herself anywhere before, Miss Sun-Kwon offered her own car ride for the two of them. Seth had already extended an invitation to Alma back to his place for a while, with the intention later to offer her the night to stay over.

He had, more than one bedroom in the house, after all.

With Katelyn going home with Stokes and Becket, Jin was left to play chauffer for the two powered beings of the group, one that culminated in a brief stop for an early dinner, on Seth's dime. Jin tried to protest but he argued that she was driving him home when he could have easily taken a bus so it was only fair. Alma merely just stayed silent and gave a quiet smile when he stared at her, literally mentally daring her to argue this time.

As they approached the modest two floor building, designed like a vacation home, situated near a river-fed modest sized pond that was probably better classified as a small lake, with a few other houses on the opposing bank, he softly spoke a strange chant.

" _This dusted road;  
this space is Mine;  
we Walk as One;  
Our paths align._

 _For rest and peace;  
though not alone;  
I bid thee Grace;  
So, __**Welcome Home.**_ _"_

Upon being questioned, he had explained that his Grandfather had, in an act of attempt at redemption for his stupidity while alive, had Willed the small vacation home to him. However it came with the stipulation he make proper graves for the dead once buried there. It had been the locale of a small Native American tribe lost to the annals of history. Selh'teus, being highly spiritual even if not religious, gladly accepted.

Native American burial grounds were practical nexuses for supernatural tomfoolery of all natures, and usually came with potentially deadly negative effects for those who would invade without welcome. As he himself was part of the bloodline of that tribe, he felt it his right to keep watch on the lands. As it was the remnants of his blood in past that lived and died here, he came up with a small prayer for newcomers.

" _You hear about it in urban legends and fanciful sounding tales about curses from spirits, especially Native American ones. So I figured just in case, as a kind of trade deal, I'd make it known when I expected someone to be coming by regularly. This place isn't really out of the way but I've got this one mail lady who said she felt like the air got lighter after I offered to speak the Invitation to her. Said that some of the other guys that come by here feel like they're being watched. They apparently don't know the history of the place."_

And it was true. His home was situated just off a main, well traveled road. Just on the outskirts of the city, so there was a bus route only a half a block's worth of walk away. And many more houses existed on the opposite side of the small lake.

The place wasn't considered holy or sacred in any way, but it had years and years of history bled upon its soil, even if much of that history was lost.

" _Better to at least let the spirits know that their land is being watched by the living rather than let them think that its being messed with."_

* * *

"Yurine! Off the ta-

The feline's head snapped towards him. The sudden movement killed the word before it could be completed. Her stare was _piercing_. As if to say 'shut the hell up.'

Blinking, he just stared quietly. She'd never done _that_ before.

All cats were capable of sharp looks and piercing glares. More particularly if you did something they didn't like. But never before hat _this_ cat reacted in such a way. He knew they were intelligent, as goofy and _stupid_ as they could be sometimes. And like most domesticated animals (pfft) could adopt very disturbingly human-like behavior.

Hell, cats only meowed due to humanity. They adopted our manner of making noises to communicate. Wild and feral cats tended to rely more on body language and simpler, quieter sounds. Movements, rather than noise more often than not.

But the stare she gave him now was completely different than anything he'd experienced.

As if satisfied that he would be silent, the ashen-grey furred animal turned back to the newcomer. Head held high, posture rigid and strong as if an offended Queen, Yurine gazed into the eyes of the psychic.

Taking a chance (she'd never interacted with any kind of animal before), Alma looked right back.

And then felt something _pull_ at her.

* * *

She blinked.

Where was-

 _Who are you?_

The world was fuzzy. Shapes similar to those of trees and bushes and flowers and…beds and tables and chairs…

She couldn't make much out, honestly. Colors were muted, only a low rushing in her ears for noise.

But the question…the question was clear.

 _I…am Alma._

 _What is 'Alma'?_

The blurry sights shifted. Before her was the shape of a cat.

And yet…it was a person…?

… _a very lonely person._

 _Are you a threat?_

The blurry sights changed again. A shape emerged.

And Alma understood.

 _I don't want to be._

 _This one is mine._

It made sense, she supposed. But she needed him.

 _I need him…to not be a threat._

 _This one is mine._

She knew if she didn't get approval, no matter how hard she tried, Seth would be lost to her.

The old her would have just blasted the damn cat away. But the new her, the _better_ her, knows.

If she did that, he would leave her.

And she's lost _enough_ in her life.

 _I wish to…borrow him._

 _What is 'borrow'?_

How to explain it…

 _I wish to have time to play with him._

 _This one is mine._

 _I am His as well._

That statement caused the cat's tail to twitch.

And then suddenly, it was a person.

Wearing a faded jacket with a silver zipper, a checkered skirt poked out from beneath. Long lavender stockings leading to small rounded shoes. Flowing ash grey hair tied into two large pigtails, lightly tanned skin, and a flicking cat's tail…

All giving off an ethereal glow.

 _You are his?_

Alma nodded at the sensation of faint surprise.

 _For as long as he'll have me._

 _This one is mine._

… _you are his._

… _then you are mine._

Alma just nodded.

 _I accept._

 _A tribute._

 _You will not hurt him._

 _You will protect him._

 _You will stand by his side where I cannot._

 _Tithe your loyalty._

 _I accept._

The rushing sound got louder.

 _He calls me 'Yurine.'_

 _Do not become threat._

And thus she became deaf.

* * *

"Mrrrep."

The cat shook its head slightly, as if brushing off an annoying fly. She stretched, taking eyes away from Alma, before darting forward and stealing a nugget off of the woman's plate.

"Oi! Yurine!"

"Mrrrrm."

"It's ok." Alma said softly. The cat looked up at her, before seeming to nod once, then hopping off the table with her stolen food still in maw.

"Oi!" Seth leaned over, watching the grey cat trot away.

"If you get sick you're skipping breakfast tomorrow dammit!"

"Mrrrrm." A flick of her tail and a murmur of noise was his response as she slipped out of the dining room.

"She's jacked food before but she usually never gets on _this_ table…" He mumbled, still confused.

"It's fine." Alma spoke up again. "I think…that was my rent."

 _ **Rent? Dafuq?**_

Alma gave a soft smile. "Yeah. She's…well, letting me borrow you. I guess that was a down payment."

Seth blinked at her. "…wait did you just psychic my cat?"

Alma giggled. "Not exactly intentionally. I think…I think she can sense my powers. I looked into her eyes and the next thing I know I'm…getting impulses of questions. I think we've come to an understanding. She didn't think the way a human does…but she claimed you as hers."

"Pfft…she would. Greedy bitch." Seth quipped.

* * *

It was not five minutes later that the sound of padding feet caught Seth's ear. Moments later, a figure shuffled into view. All three heads turned to see a young woman step through the small open archway.

She looked a _fright_. Her blue hair was tussled and unevenly puffy on either side. Her forest green dress (with black lace trim. You couldn't get this girl out of black lace if you promised her infinite money.) ruffled and practically hanging off of one shoulder. Stockings crumpled and decorated with small pieces of lint.

Her eyes were half-lidded, her makeup was smudged, her gait was uneven and almost zombie-like.

But none of that mattered as the first thing she did was shuffle over to Seth and pretty much fall into his arms. He gave an amused snort.

"Hey sweetie. Didn't expect you to wake up till tomorrow."

The girl grumbled, sinking into his embrace with a shaky sigh.

"Shiki woke me up…"

His gaze turned to the tuxedo cat that had silently trotted in after the blue haired mess. Eyes following it as she leapt onto the rungs of the climbing palace he'd gotten for them, sitting halfway up the top, perched like an eagle, watching carefully. The cat's eyes met with Alma's.

And the _rushing_ came back.

* * *

 _Threat?_

The strange blurry space was back.

 _Toy. Friend. Love?_

 _That one is Mine._

 _I am his._

 _Stand by his Side._

 _Defend what is His._

 _Never anything else._

 _Acceptance._

* * *

Upon the second instance of the strange waterfall-like sound, Alma found herself back into reality. This meeting was shorter. For a second, Alma saw the flicker of a woman about her body's age, with black hair cut in a loose bob around her shoulders, in a red jacket over a pale blue kimono.

Her eyes were blank. Not empty, but impassive, as if unconcerned with her surroundings.

Yet she never felt more _dangerous_.

"Shiki?"

"mrrrm?"

"You good?"

"Mrrrm."

Mildly concerned but trusting his cats to know how to cat better than he, Seth returned to the girl in his arms.

"Got you food."

"Probably why Shiki woke me up…"

"Gonna eat? When did you konk out anyway?"

"The second I laid down…about ten minutes after I texted you."

"Good nap?"

"mmm."

He nudged her with his weight. "Go on then, get some food in you."

"mmm…ok…"

She reluctantly pulled away and went back towards the kitchen.

A half minute later, Jin leaned forward and whispered.

"Is that-

"Maddy? Yeah. she'll introduce herself once her head clears up. Coming out of my room after sleeping there tends to discombobulate her. Something about suddenly reconnecting to multiple timelines at once. Should have seen her when she first started doing it. She damn near fell down the stairs."

"Uhhhhgh…must you tell that story to _everyone_ we meet…?" came the grumbling voice of Medea, re-entering with a plate of her own food in hand.

"Gotta let them know you're still human somehow."

She plopped down in one of the chairs roughly. "Ugh…alright…lets get this out of the way…which one of you is Alma?"

"Me." Said Alma, sitting at the farthest right.

Medea stared at the girl through half lidded eyes and hanging hair. "…you're wearing clothes."

"…yes…?"

"That was rather blunt, miss valedictorian."

Medea's head slowly turned to Seth. "Master, all I saw was her from behind. And never with clothes. I didn't know if she even knew what clothes were. You don't question the nudity of the walking dimensional fissure, you accept it and move on."

Seth gave a barking laugh. "Too true! Fair enough then."

Her head turned to Jin.

"You…you're new."

"Jin Sun-Kwon. I worked with…uhh…" She wasn't sure how to proceed. This went beyond just work.

"My son. One of them."

"Someone let you reproduce?!"

The sheer alarm in her voice, and the look of terrified shock on her face, combined with the small bit of ketchup on the girl's cheek from the bite she'd taken out of her burger, had Seth _howling_ with laughter. The man was banging the table, tears in his eyes, head down, barking laughs coming from his belly.

"Not by choice…" Alma mumbled, cheeks tinged red.

"Master!"

He tried to explain while still cackling. "I'm-I'm sorry! Just- _HAHahA_ -hearing _that_ reaction from miss unflappable! You normally see everything coming! _GOD_ I live for moments like this!"

"I'm glad my embarrassment can provide entertainment for you." Medea grumbled.

Slowly he calmed down. "She…she was…Miss Fourty-Year-Old-Virgin here was used as…hooh boy that was good…as an experiment. Artificial pregnancies twice over to try to use her spawn as the base for some super-soldier project."

Alarmed, Medea's head snapped back to Alma.

"I swear if you call me Mary I'm slapping you."

"That explains the anger then…"

"Bah, you being in my head is no fair."

The alarm came back. "Wait she's in your _head_?!"

Seth nodded. "Right…we should probably explain that bit…"

* * *

 _Am I jealous?_

It was…painful…in an odd way. To watch those two interact. There was obvious signs of history, of a close connection. He often put his arm around her in some manner, and she tended to lean into him just as many times. It…hurt.

But it wasn't a rejection.

No…Medea wasn't a terrible opponent. She wasn't even an opponent at all. And he wasn't an ungraceous host. That's a word now, she decided. No they both made her feel welcome, even though Shiki decided to spend most of her time staring at Alma. But there was still a definite divide between the casual touches and soft motions towards one another, and how he interacted with Alma.

The hurt was…a longing.

Brought with a revelation. It was the first time she'd ever had _friends_.

She was awkward and babbled a lot, but Seth would laugh it off and Medea would press for clearer answers.

They were a _team_. More than just friends. Not in the romantic sense. And not in a familial sense.

… _ **partner…**_

Yes…they were _partners_. They'd been through some kind of hell together. And then grew from it.

… _yes. Yes I am…_

 _ **Be Better!**_

It was hard. She knew she was jealous. She knew she wanted what Medea had. And maybe…maybe in a sense she was getting there. But she wanted it _now_. She was desperate and lonely and…

She was an idiot. He'd offered the spare bedroom for the night but…

… _I wanted…I wanted to give him his space. Today was…something that never should have happened._

And it was true. She also wanted to see how far she could get from him without side effects. As it was, she was still perfectly attuned to his mind. Nothing had really changed. So distance, so far, wasn't an issue.

He hadn't been focusing on any one thing. Maybe to avoid her hearing?

Her head lowered on her kitchen table. The rotating fan above spinning softly as she blew a strand of hair out of her face.

She couldn't get to sleep. She didn't _want_ to sleep. She wanted…

 _Him. I want him. Ugh…this is love?_

… _ **obsession, really…**_

And worse still was that…almost mocking voice. It wasn't his. It was similar to the voice of the Phantom Girl. It may very well have been. It spoke to her on occasion, but not at length.

Still…

 _Am I never not going to be obsessed?_

 **… _read the book idiot…_**

That's right. She'd gotten a book from him. The book he wrote. The 'stream of consciousness turned into an over-glorified manual', as he called it.

She decided. She'd read till she passed out.

It was better than staying awake but groggy and pining over him.

…she'd see him tomorrow anyway…

* * *

She was naked.

They both were.

Messy blue hair falling over his right shoulder. Her head resting in the crook between his neck and his chest, his chin resting atop her skull. Her right arm draped along his torso, fingers entwined.

" _ **So not that I'm complaining…but why me?"**_

Her blue eyes peered up at him between locks of their darker mirror.

" _ **It was always said, give your first time to someone special. You know how it is. Always harping on about something so meaningless. But with how its drilled into our minds…"**_

" _ **Mmm. Yeah."**_

" _ **Why me, he asks. Who else could it be but the man who defied my absolution, tore through a series of armed guards and saved my life? Who else, but the man who took my fears and showed me how they could be conquered? Who else…but the man who has been my teacher, my guide…my best friend?"**_

" _ **Well when you put it that way…"**_

She shook her head.

" _ **There was never any other choice. There was never any want of another. Maybe some day but right now…"**_

Slowly, she climbed back on top of him.

" _ **Right now, there's only you."**_

Her sight focused on her eyes. They seemed to almost _glow_.

And then the **rushing** came…

* * *

 _ **She's at the top floor.**_

Racing footsteps towards a man holding an assault rifle. The masked man turned, only to have a fist slammed into his face. A ripple of air emerged from the impact, the man was sent flying into a nearby wall with a loud **crunch** of broken bone.

It was intentional.

" _ **She told me to…to stay here. That…this was what her visions showed her. Seth, she's going to die! My best friend is going to die!"**_

He'd taken the stairs, bounding off the walls. He didn't even seem to notice his movements, focused only on _getting to her_.

Her death was going to be _pointless_. Meaningless. Without reason or purpose. She was going to die.

All because she saw it coming?

 _ **Goddamn precogs thinking their visions can't be defied! Guardians make their own fate!**_

Another group of men. Three of them. They turned at the sound of the stairwell door opening. They were all bowled over by an invisible wall of pressure slamming into them with the force of a swung baseball bat. Groaning on the ground, they could do nothing as suddenly they were lifted up, before their windpipes were crushed all at once.

 _ **Almost there…**_

The Office was at the rear of the top floor. Clear glass windows facing the city, large sliding blinds in front, blocking from view.

Or they would be, were they drawn shut.

It was a large box. Large enough for ten people.

There were only five.

Four armed men.

And _her_.

She sat facing the window. Knelt really. Hair a bit messy from being roughed about, but otherwise unharmed. He didn't have much time. The gun was pointed to her forehead.

 _ **D_._ .O. _E_.**_

 _ **_h.s S_.e_.e i_ .in_**_

The world grew fuzzy. A deep haze covered everything visible. Flickers of movement, tinny echoes of almost forgotten screams, loud pops and bangs of what could have been gunfire. Crackling distortions of shattered glass.

A sound…of a garbled, defiant _roar_.

The only clear sight, was the terrified stare on the blood-splattered face of Medea Wolfe.

And the disturbing visage of the Phantom Girl, reflected in her eyes.

* * *

" _ **So…? What's your take?"**_

They were naked again.

"… _ **she's…different than the visions showed."**_

Where they talking about her?

" _ **She says she wants to change. To be a better person."**_

They were…weren't they?

" _ **mm…it shows."**_

Well that was…good…right?

" _ **She'll be happy to hear that."**_

She was.

" _ **She'll be jealous…"**_

" _ **You think so?"**_

" _ **I…I don't know…I would be, if I were her."**_

" _ **Well, you know her better than I do right now."**_

That needed to change soon.

"… _ **it's…strange."**_

" _ **Hmm?"**_

"… _ **before she…vanished. From my Sight. I saw the future she told us about."**_

The one that would have come, if she'd successfully impregnated herself on Becket.

"… _ **something happen?"**_

" _ **Something she didn't say."**_

" _ **Like?"**_

"… _ **I saw…monsters. I saw two men. I saw her, older, belly beyond swollen. Like an alien sack."**_

" _ **Ewww."**_

" _ **The two men…fought. One killed the other then…took over his body."**_

Wait what? What was she…

" _ **He delivered the baby…but…everything got fuzzy for a minute. Blinked out. I thought that was it. But…"**_

" _ **What happened?"**_

" _ **I saw…the man looking angry, and scared. The baby…began to float on its own. But Alma…she was…smiling."**_

That doesn't sound right.

" _ **That doesn't sound right."**_

" _ **She had the biggest, exhausted looking, shit eating grin on her face. Like she'd just pulled some incredible heist."**_

" _ **Definitely doesn't sound like her…not in that situation."**_

" _ **But then…before everything stopped…the baby vanished. Just…plip."**_

Shouldn't that be 'poof'?

" _ **You mean 'poof' right?"**_

The blue hair shook.

" _ **Plip. A ripple of air. Like that…zero shift thing you showed me."**_

" _ **And then…"**_

" _ **That's it. I couldn't see her anymore. It was literally the last thing I saw."**_

" _ **And…that was different from the other visions how?"**_

" _ **I never saw that until just before she vanished."**_

The angle she was at changed. He must have sat up.

" _ **Wait, what did you see then?"**_

She sat up as well.

" _ **Her. The two men. A man that was apparently her father setting her free and being melted for it. And then just…fire. Fire and death and screams. With her slowly walking in the flames. The sky was covered in fire-smoke. The air was filled with specks of ash. And she was just walking through it all.**_

 _ **Looking for her children."**_

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 06 –** _ **Acclimation**_

"Can you…help? I've never…"

The next week unfolded in a fairly calm pattern.

Alma would teleport over in the mornings (or rather when she felt Seth's mind go from groggy sleepy murkiness to actively awake) and join him for whatever he was doing for the day. Then, they would start on trying to get Alma used to control.

She showed him her failed attempt at what he did against the replicas multiple times, and displayed the obvious frustration about it.

" _I could feel it. Like it was trying to work but then…nothing."_

" _Are you copying it exactly?"_

" _Ye…you…you know what? Explain that to me."_

So he did. He'd asked what she hear or felt every time he did the repulsive wave, and she had informed him that before it happened, she would 'hear' a string of lowly 'spoken' gibberish of mashed together words and impulses before everything got hyper-focused and released.

When asked if she was copying _that_ as well, she replied in the negative.

" _Well that solves the problem then. You're speaking the words, but not matching the intent."_

" _Ok…what does that mean?"_

The way his powers worked, he explained, was through a series of repeated controlled instances of gravitational fields. He didn't have the fine control – or as far as he knew, the power – to just _lift_ or _move_ something. So what he did instead, was create a series of minute pulses that fired off at such speeds that it mimicked the act.

" _The reason being that I learned that just trying to_ _ **push**_ _something ended up not being direct enough, and usually just too weak. But if I effectively slingshot the thing between a bunch of fields at once…"_

" _It…would build up an almost stationary level of momentum and then burst in the direction you specified?"_

" _Bingo."_

The 'Aria' as he called them, the technique of self-hypnosis, was to 'shorten the casting time'. He'd trained with very similar versions of the same kinds of intention arrays, all falling under the guise of 'move this in the specified direction.'

'Shinra Tensei' was the repulsive wave. A near-wall of 'I want that away from me'. 'Banshō Ten'in' was the attractive wave. A grasping force of 'I want that closer to me.'

" _The thing is, I have to anchor something as the origin point first."_

" _Origin point?"_

" _The source of anything is called the origin of it, right? Well an Origin Point is the name I gave to whatever it is that is the beginning of its motion. Evolution, de-evolution, momentum, whatever. Everything's got a beginning. And everything with a beginning has an end. But that's not important right now. Basically, it's another self-hypnosis thing."_

By declaring a specific location the 'origin' he learned how to create fields that didn't just come from him. But he explained that it was easier to do if the object or location was in some way 'his' to begin with.

" _Why Silence?"_

" _eh?"_

" _I…I felt you trying to come to terms with everything. You were speaking some kind of…weird chant. It sounded like something a child would come up with. But in the end, you…_ _ **believed**_ _the words 'This Silence is Mine'. And if I hadn't been surrounded by replicas I probably would have flooded my panties after."_

Silence…there was a reason why he had the pseudonym 'Nothingness Ascendant.' After all, sound does not travel in space as far as modern science states. And 'space' is nearly synonymous with 'the Void'. With his book heavily mentioning 'nothingness' 'absence' 'solitude' 'loneliness' 'emptiness' and 'void', 'silence' was another thing that came up.

Silence is the absence of sound. Sound is generated by a multitude of things, but movement being one of them. His power, as he wielded it, operated on the idea of an aspect of nothingness. The removal of 'thing' from 'location.' Ultimately it boiled down to 'that which is before me no longer rests at the state it began.' As the one who manipulates the 'void' that is 'empty forces' he declares what should and should not be stood before him.

If the 'silence' is 'his', then so is the 'space'. And if the 'space' is his, then he determines who or what is within it.

It effectively put his subconscious in a hyper-aware state, 'tagging' more things as 'manipulatable' than he normally would be able to. It was mildly exhausting and created an almost tunnel-vision-like effect in terms of mentality, but it let him do _more_ with his fields, on reflex, than he'd normally be able to.

" _Like blocking those missiles?"_

" _Ahh…that wasn't blocking them."_

" _What was it then?"_

His gravitational fields did not act in the same way someone like Alma could wield their psychic powers. He didn't create walls. Or barriers. He created fields of influence. He explained to her that he can 'block' things not so much by 'stopping' them, but by generating a 'border' of 'get away from me'.

By designating himself as the origin point, he pushes out an omni-directional wave very similar to the repelling force of the Shinra Tensei. Only it's not a border of 'stop.' But an extremely powerful, continuous wave of 'get the fuck back'. Slower objects will be repelled instantly. Small objects and most people will be slingshot away the second the 'bubble' appears, usually being thrown back during its formation.

Larger objects will range from being unaffected to being moved, slowly at first but picking up speed the longer they're in range to be affected. Fast moving objects…it depended on how fast versus how much force he was putting on it, as well as how large the object.

He couldn't block bullets as far as he knew.

" _As far as you know?"_

" _Medea brought over a paintball gun and a BB gun once. She loaded them up, I popped my bubble as hard as I could, and she fired."_

" _What happened?"_

" _The paintballs went splat pretty hard against the edge of the field. The BB pellets practically cut right through. They slowed down enough that a quick enough person with fast reflexes could get out of the way before getting hit but otherwise…"_

He'd shrugged, indicating that they were too fast and too small for him to block or redirect, just slow. The pellets were apparently sheered down from the force however. They decided not to attempt to test normal bullets, going with the assumption of a _very_ hard maybe, but unlikely.

" _So…not that I'm complaining because I'm not. I love learning about you. But why tell me all this?"_

" _Other than to give you an illustration on the differences between our powers? So you'd have something to start with."_

The idea was that, since her attempt at copying the Shinra Tensei aria _almost_ worked, that with a bit more mental focus and refinement, she would either get it to work, or make her own.

" _Small steps at first. The point of the arias is to create a focus. Something that is a quick reaction to a spoken word or phrase."_

" _Like how Shinra Tensei always pushes things away from the origin point?"_

" _Exactly like that."_

It had taken him weeks to even begin getting things to move properly from that alone. The attracting aria was just everything in reverse, focused towards him. He'd admit that he'd almost impaled himself a few times overpowering it when trying to summon a shovel or rake from across the yard, when he first started.

He theorized that since Alma already has experience _moving_ things, then ultimately it was just tuning that was needed.

Thus, the week progressed as such: she spent much of her time, learning to _relax_ while also letting her powers out. He'd surround her with small things, mostly pillows and the like, and sit her outside in the yard, while he played music. Sometimes loud fast songs, sometimes slow, relaxing ones.

And he would talk. Both to keep her calm, and to distract her.

" _If you learn how to partition your thoughts then it will make 'casting' under duress much easier."_

It took a few days before anything truly began to come of it. She had to learn _how_ to lift things intentionally.

" _What does 'lift' mean to you? Is it to be yanked off the ground? Is it to be pushed up? Pulled up? Carried like in a bubble? Twisted around like a tornado?"_

Question her desire, was what he told her. Embrace the lack of knowing and reshape her focus by making a template. How did she want it to rise. Why? How far? For how long? Would it stay in place like resting on an invisible table? Would it bob gently up and down as if in a calm pond? Would it remain in its new position come hell or high water? Or would it just be floating there, able to be manipulated by another person, or the wind?

The week's days passed with her being told to question everything. Question question question. So that way when she _needed_ to do the thing, she wouldn't _have_ to.

" _You get your questions out of the way. You make your own answers. The whys but more importantly, the why_ _ **not**_ _s. This way, when you need to do something, you already generally know how, you just need only to apply the current situation to your knowledge."_

It was how he wielded his own power, and while he repeatedly stated hers was on a different scale than his (his being 'lesser' because it required more effort and power to achieve similar effects to what she could do with a simple offhand thought) they could be manipulated similarly, at least to begin with.

" _Don't copy my limitations. You're a psychic. You can do things I can probably only dream of. Just use what I can do, as a baseline, and_ _ **grow**_ _."_

At night, when she wrestled herself away from the calm and the peace and the enjoyment of being around him and _being treated like a normal person_ and cherished and cared for, she would bury her rampant thoughts and desires in reading the book he wrote.

It truly was, a stream of consciousness. Every chapter was rather disorganized, and read more like a journal than anything, but it _helped_. It helped her come to better terms with herself, with her rampant thoughts and feelings.

On one day, about four days in, meeting Katelyn at her new job (Seth had come through as he said he would, it shocked her how fast he did it, too), while on break, the brunette lightning bender had let Alma go into her mind to see a particular memory.

It was a memory of one of her classes, where the teacher was lambasting Seth's book as a piece of junk that made no sense and was written terribly.

And how one very quiet, shy girl in the back had stood up and _tore him a new one._

" _ **It's because it's not written for you!"**_

 _ **The shock of her shooting out of her seat and practically screaming at the teacher had silenced everyone.**_

 _ **Including the superintendent that had just walked in with the principal.**_

" _ **Why would it**_ _ **ever**_ _ **be written for you or anyone like you! You**_ _ **have**_ _ **what you want! You have a job you have a house you have your goals met! You know yourself and everything you need and you can**_ _ **get it!**_ _ **It's not about**_ _ **you!**_ _ **Or anyone like you! It's written for**_ _ **us!**_ _ **It's written for people like**_ _ **us, people like me**_ _ **who**_ _ **don't**_ _ **know what the hell they're doing in life! The people like me who can barely keep our thoughts together because we're alone and afraid and we're getting closer and closer to an adulthood in a world that does its damndest not to tell us jack**_ _ **shit**_ _ **because it wants to be able to toss us aside at any given time!**_

 _ **It's for people like**_ _ **us**_ _ **who are lost and confused and feel like the walls are caving in because we don't know anything and we**_ _ **know**_ _ **we don't know anything and that**_ _ **terrifies**_ _ **us because everyone treats people who don't know something like pointless idiots and unworthy trash heaps not fit for even wiping their asses with!**_

 _ **It's for people like**_ _ **us**_ _ **who are hurt and tired and scared and just want it all to end because it's too fucking painful to keep going but we get treated like idiots and babies if we even**_ _ **begin**_ _ **to hint at our problems! It's for people who don't know where they are or who they are or what they want and don't know that its**_ _ **okay**_ _ **not to know! People who don't have a clear cut goal in life, people who are struggling just to get out of bed in the morning, people who are**_ _ **Nothing**_ _ **in the eyes of the world and even themselves! It's for people who need to know it's**_ _ **okay to not know, it's okay to be Nothing because everything starts as Nothing and it's only by either an act of an extremely powerful outside force or by building it from inside can the Nothing become a Something!**_

 _ **So don't you**_ _ **dare**_ _ **make fun of this book! He's not the best writer around and he even**_ _ **admits that**_ _ **but he writes like a person talks and he writes for us, he writes for**_ _ **me**_ _ **and he's a man who is trying to be a friend to the ones who don't feel like they have a future, the ones who are wandering around without any hope, the ones who want to just crawl into bed and chug a fucking bottle of asprin so they'll never wake up so go**_ _ **fuck yourself**_ _ **because he's the only friend I've**_ _ **got!**_ _ **"**_

Needless to say, the girl had actually stomped out of the classroom, tears racing down her face. And yet, in a shocking display of solidarity, despite the fact the principal was _right there_ , so did _everyone else_.

Apparently the teacher and principal both had attempted to get her suspended and hold her back from graduation, but were promptly shut down by a month's worth of angry parents calling the school and berating everyone for allowing that teacher to effectively make fun of teenagers committing suicide.

It would seem that the girl had inspired her classmates to take a stand…even if they had to twist the truth a little bit.

"… _she said all that?"_

" _Yes."_

"… _did you get her name?"_

It may have been a few years since then, but damn if he wasn't going to let that girl know that she was absolutely right.

Still, near the end of the week, Medea made her return. Finals had ended for her. As with the first time Alma met her, she happened to witness 'post-crash' Medea once again.

" _It's fine. You've apparently seen me_ _ **much**_ _worse."_

" _How true."_

Still, having an actual second girl around brought up some important topics. Such as Alma's wardrobe. Or lack thereof. She didn't do terribly much by the way of clothes shopping, only enough for a week without repeats, mostly due to not wanting to trigger her powers, as well as not really wishing to leave the house.

Add in a dose of not really knowing anything about clothes shopping other than what few styles she seemed to be drawn to, sprinkle with Seth handing Medea the gift card to that lingerie chain with a cheeky grin on his face…

And that's how they ended up in the dressing room together.

Medea had decided to take the card at face value, as a gift for her birthday, which was literally the last day of her Finals. And as a counter to his semi-idiotic joke gift, she had taken Alma with her. Lingerie was expensive, but Medea herself didn't need overmuch, and she knew Alma would appreciate having something… _comfortable_.

It had gotten better, after being around him for more than just a few hours, but Alma still had the reflexive act of blurting out her feelings, including the random moments where she really wanted to screw him.

Alma stood in front of the body mirror, looking at herself in the garments she'd chosen.

"Hmm. You really _are_ quite beautiful. It's a drastic difference between the you I've seen in my visions."

"…I am?"

Medea nodded, placing Alma's clothes on the small bench. "Your hair could use a bit of a touch-up but yes. Very much so. May I?"

The farseer motioned placing a hand on the psychic's hip. Alma nodded.

"See how it flutters softly?" she said, meaning the crimson babydoll the psychic was wearing. "And how it just teases at the hint of skin beneath?"

Medea's hands then pressed upon Alma's waist. The girl gave a soft shiver.

"And how its loose, even when pressed in? How does it feel? Not itchy?"

A shake of her head.

…what was…that feeling?

"Good. No allergic reactions then."

"That'd be bad right?"

"Oh yes. You'd likely break out in the afflicted area. Angry red rashes and the like. I can't wear certain brands of cotton or I start chafing quickly. Best to watch for that."

Her hands moved to Alma's shoulders.

"The straps shouldn't be too tight on something like this. Just enough to stay up but loose enough to slip off when you want. How's the fit?"

…there it was again. It was…warm…

"The…fit?"

"Yes. Around your breasts. Do you mind…?"

"N-no."

The hands then moved to her front.

… _that_ was definitely noticeable this time. It wasn't… _burning_ but it was definitely warm. Was it always this warm? Was Medea's body so warm all the time?

"Does it feel tight at all?" Medea was gently pulling on the lace cups that Alma's breasts sat snugly in. It was hard for the psychic to focus on the question, but she pushed through.

"Uhh…n-no. Not…not really."

"Yours arent so big that you can't get around in public without a bra but for more…official occasions, you might want to look into purchasing some that fit well. For bras, you don't want them too tight or it will start digging into your chest and…well sweat happens and it just feels gross."

"I…I can imagine."

How was she not sweating right now? Seriously it was getting so damn _warm_.

She'd only just noticed her hands were trembling slightly.

…god those hands felt _good_.

…wait.

"Any problem with the panties?"

Were her lips…always _glistening_ like that?

"Pan…oh. No."

"Not digging into your hips at all? Riding up your…well."

Alma's head frantically shook.

And those eyes. Like sapphires. Not unlike her own. But…they just… _glimmered_.

The hands went back to her shoulders.

"…Alma? Are you alright?"

"…uhh…what…?"

It was so warm. So…warm…

Safe…she felt…she felt safe. Warm and safe. So warm and safe. She never wanted to leave.

…the lips parted again. Oh how she wanted to _touch_ them. And those eyes. Eyes glistening, shimmering, beautiful crystals of…of concern…?

…why was it so warm? Like…being near a fire. A nice…roaring flame. Flickering and flailing about. Crackling and burning. And warm. Oh so very very warm. Like the warmth through her veins. Like the warmth in her cheeks.

Burning…

In her chest.

Spreading along to her fingers. Racing down her spine. She was…warm.

She wanted _her_ warmth. The warmth of her body pressed against her own. The warmth of her lips mashed against her own. The warmth of her fingers running through her hair.

She turned around. Medea took a reflexive step back. Not fear. Surprise.

Alma's hands reached up, grasping the farseer's.

More…more warmth. Just a little more. Just a little taste.

"HOLY SHIT!"

The shout from outside startled both of them.

"Quick someone get a fire extinguisher!"

…fire…extinguisher…?

It suddenly _hit_ her.

Alma's eyes widened in horror. "…no…" she whispered.

The warmth was gone. It was too much before, but now it was gone.

Replaced by cold terror.

A loud hollow hiss resounded.

"…medea…"

Her head was bowed. The farseer looked back at her, noticing the…hunched over stance. Almost as if she was trying to curl in on herself.

"…we need…I need to…to go…"

She wasn't stupid. Everything made a vague level of sense. Not supermuch but enough that she understood. She helped Alma out of the babydoll top and handed the girl her clothes back. Waiting until the psychic was dressed, the two emerged, Medea's best poker-face on.

"Everything alright out here? Did someone mention fire?"

Platitudes were returned. Oh everything was fine now. Just somehow something caught fire. Must have been faulty wiring. Medea simply agreed, gently grasping Alma's hands and guiding her along. They received apologies for the scare but Medea waved them off.

She bought that babydoll though. She wasn't about to let a sudden burst of flame stop her from buying something Alma so clearly liked. Her own purchases bagged as well, the two left the store. Rounding a street corner into a nearby empty alley, Medea turned back to her companion.

"Alma?"

The warmth was back. But it was struggling against the cold chill of failure. Of not being good enough. Of rejection.

A hand on her cheek drew her out of her ruminations.

"What happened?"

"…I…"

Oh it was _too much_. The warmth was raging again but so was the cold! She was trembling. She could barely keep her thoughts together. There were too many people!

"…not…not here…I…I need to…"

Medea just nodded.

Something was tickling her eyes. Something…kept flickering in and out of view. A vision? Now?

"Can you teleport us?"

"I…"

She'd never done it with another person before. She barely thought she could do it on her own but she _really_ needed to not be…in public right now.

"You need to get home. Focus on that. Wrap us in it."

Oh god why.

The warmth exploded again.

Because Medea was holding her.

"Focus, Alma. Not on where you are. But where you _are_."

Focus… _focus…_

The warmth was so distracting…

But maybe…maybe she could use that…

She wanted…to be where she was.

It was safe. It was warm. It was home.

She never wanted that warmth to go away.

Was _he_ this warm?

He was safe. He was home. And when he held her hand…yes…yes he was warm.

But so was _she_.

And she was _here_. With her. Holding her close. Whispering gently.

Such…a fool shouldn't have someone so dear…yet…

… _I don't want to be alone…_

Focus. On where you _are_.

… _I am_ _ **home**_ _._

And just like that…a loud rip of torn space.

And indeed, they were **home**.

* * *

Medea had put down the bags. She'd been teleported to Alma's apartment with the psychic girl. Who was…currently in the bathroom. Hopefully not sick.

Medea thought about it. It made an unusual kind of sense. Alma was a pyrokinetic as well. So something set her off. That fire must have been because of her powers reacting to something. The issue was figuring out _what_.

 _Oh…Selh'teus is so much better at this than I am…_

And it was true. Compared to him, she was a dumb, blind idiot. Navigating puzzles was never her thing – it took her an _hour_ getting through that godforsaken ice puzzle in Twilight Princess – and Alma was a puzzle like no other. Astonishingly simple, but exceedingly complex.

Fear would trigger fire as a survival response. So it wasn't that. And it would have been closer. Alma was…acting strange before the fire. Twitchy and…off.

 _And her eyes were turning red._

Orange-red eyes were Alma's trademark in her visions. Even in her child form. So that meant her powers were active…but she already knew that.

… _only one way to find out._

She'd admit. She wasn't the most sociable of people. Academia was her only other strong point beyond her visions. And considering she'd lived the majority of her life expecting to die at seventeen…she had few actual _friends_. And one of them was the reason why Seth saved her.

She was the quiet, bookish type. Stoic, strong, but not terribly talkative.

Until you got close to her. Even then she wasn't a chatterbox, but she would happily speak about more inane things if she knew you well enough. Now, at least. She didn't believe she had time for pointless conversations before.

Yes…she was the typical cold, scholarly beauty. As Seth called her.

Being poked in the ribs multiple times by the Chaos Lord broke that persona.

…though maybe being poked in a _different_ area helped as well.

… _yes, yes it did._ She thought to herself.

 _I will never understand those stories and books where someone is despairing lustful emotions towards their best friend. That's exactly who you_ _ **should**_ _have sex with if anything! Someone you know well and trust and can have a good time with. Ahh…but maybe I'm biased._

Her life wasn't exactly normal.

Especially now that she'd befriended a literal World Eater.

… _well…no time like the present I suppose…_

* * *

She'd screwed up.

All those…warm feelings and thoughts led to her losing control. That fire was her fault. All because she couldn't stop thinking of…

 _What's wrong with me…?_

"Alma?"

 _Oh god no._

Medea had stepped into her room, knocking on the open door. Alma hadn't done much more than drop to her knees and despair. Typical, actually. At least nothing was broken?

Quickly, the psychic scrambled to her feet. Her mouth opened to speak but…

What could she say?

Of course, Medea had to go and throw everything off by giving her a small smile.

"It's alright. I understand…vaguely, what must have happened."

That's right. Medea had seen her…much worse than this.

So why…why did this feel so…tight? In her…whatever that space that wasn't quite chest but not quite stomach either…

"Do you know why?"

Alma…nodded. Head lowered.

"Can you tell me?"

Oh she _really_ didn't want to but…

 _ **Be Better!**_

She had to…if only because she was afraid if she didn't, she'd lose _both of them_.

"I…"

Come on girl. Spill it!

"…I've watched you two have sex."

…that was not the it at all but sure why not. Start there.

"…oh."

I mean really what else was there to say to that?

"I didn't mean to! I was…I just slept and when I sleep lately I've been seeing parts of his mind and memories and I saw…a lot of you. I saw you and him and I saw you kneeling and I saw you covered in blood and the people that were going to kill you and he was _so so mad_ and I saw you naked and _god you're fucking gorgeous_ and you've been so kind and good to me and I _don't deserve it at all_ but its there and I just got warmer and warmer and _holy shit you're beautiful_ and it felt safe and calm and just more and I couldn't think of anything but how _pretty you are_ and I just _needed more warm_ and…and…"

"…I didn't know you swung that way."

" _I_ didn't know I swung that way! I don't know any swing but the one on my tree!"

 _So…it's not just focused on him? I mean…it's a little flattering really but…I thought she was head-over-heels for him._

"I thought…you were-

"Obsessed with him? I am. It's still there. He's napping, by the way. Did you know he sometimes dreams of the day his mother died? It's so strange. It's like a fist came out of nowhere and backhanded her. Like a literal giant fist. He's dreaming about that right now. Or he was. I don't know. Its sometimes hazy in his head when he's asleep. I literally can never get enough of him. Any of him."

"But now…I'm part of it?"

"…I'm sorry."

There were tears in her eyes.

 _Poor thing is torn up about all of it. Invading his head, now both of our privacy…and…yet…_

There it was again. That…odd flicker. She could see Alma but…who was that next to her?

…wait…

She…recognized that…fluttering maroon cloth…

She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to be trying to look beyond Nothing.

 _Warm. That's what she said. Warm and safe. …I think I get it. She still hasn't formed a proper filter yet…and she's feeling everything raw. So she was overwhelmed by her attraction and it resulted in her powers triggering._

"We need to tell him."

"…I know…I'm sorry."

"Oh not about that you silly thing. About what caused your Fire to come back. Really, Alma, I'm not the best at figuring this kind of thing out. But I have an idea, and he'll likely be able to refine that. So remove the worry from your mind, girl. Honestly…you should be happy."

"…I should be happy that I want to bury my tongue in your throat. A girl I've only known for about a week that occasionally _fucks_ the guy I can't stop thinking about because I'm _in his head_ at all times and I'm damn near _constantly horny_ around and I can't do _anything_ about it because I need to _be better_ than that an-mmmhhh!"

Medea had decided _fuck it all_ and rolled her eyes, deftly stepping towards Alma, grabbing the poor babbling psychic's chin and pressing their lips together.

It wasn't that there was a _strong_ attraction to the girl. She was telling the truth when she said she believed Alma to be beautiful. She always was, but before it was in the disturbing "storm about to destroy everything you know and love" kind of way. Now it was a more typical beauty, and admittedly when Alma started babbling like that she was cute as a button even if it was self-deprecating.

But there _was_ a small attraction, or rather, no _reason_ to reject. And the girl was working herself up again.

But if there was one thing Medea Wolfe had learned from her lessons with Seth, it was that Red was Fire, and Fire was Passion, and Passion was _Heat_.

Alma's powers seemed to have come back because of her sudden burst of _passion-based warmth_. She'd been holding it back longer than was probably healthy for the girl.

So when the two gently parted, Medea was treated to the sight of a pair of shimmering red eyes. The girl had tasted mildly salty. Fair enough due to the recent tears. But it was…less forceful than Medea'd expected.

But her eyes…

Alma's eyes had changed. From their usual sky-blue, to a distinct garnet red. …not fire demon red. _Garnet_ red. The color was different than when she was just a raging spectre in her visions.

But the red…looked familiar as well.

And as Alma stared, _engulfed in passion_ into Medea's eyes…

For a brief moment…

Medea saw…not _Alma_ …but a similarly shaped…younger face…wearing a saucy grin…

With a head of _pink hair_.

"…If you do that again…I don't…I…"

"Shhh…"

…honestly? Alma wasn't the only one who was still learning how to _live_.

 _Ehh, I'm still in college. Isn't this the time I'm expected to be fooling around?_

… _always did wonder what it was like to be on the giving end…_

"You've read the book?"

"…on my second time…"

"Good. Remember the first lesson of understanding yourself?"

"…let go…"

"Do you tru-

"Yes. Both of you."

Damn that was fast. She didn't even finish the question.

"Then relax. Swim…but don't drown. Follow my lead."

A frantic nod, and a glimmer of _hunger_.

"Do you look at _him_ like that?"

The eyes turned away. A gentle nudge of the chin drew them back.

"He's taking it slow with you for some reason. Idiot should have just dived right in. So I'll do it in his stead, alright?"

Tears. But a nod.

"Good. Just relax. Don't fight the warmth. _Direct_ it."

And she leaned back in.

 _ **Greedy little siren.**_

 _ **Oh well.**_

 _ **She'll take care of you for now.**_

And had a flash of an image of the _three_ of them laying together.

* * *

He…seemed to take it well. There was a moment where a bunch of jumbled thoughts and impulses raced through Alma from his end but they suddenly stopped.

Problem was…so did the breeze.

There was no sense of danger or warning or…really discomfort. No rejection or anger or anything other than mild confusion and some interest with a spark of arousal for a moment.

Instead, the next three days after that, were focused on training that new discovery.

Just as Medea had thought, Seth explained that Red was the color of Fire. Fire was Power. Power was _Passion_ , and passion was **heat**. He agreed with Medea's hypothesis and congratulated her on successfully navigating a minor labyrinth of Nothingness with naught but a spark of flame in the distance.

Medea felt there was something… _off_ in how he congratulated her, but Alma had shown no signs of concern beyond the first discussion about their…little romp, so she brushed it aside.

…not easily…seeing as she kept seeing flickers of _maroon cloth_ fluttering around his shoulders for some reason.

Seth had Alma constantly red in the face, as he kept pushing her to descend into the _passion_ of their physical entanglement and push it _out_. She'd set something on fire that she didn't even see, just from starting to get _warmed up_ , thus the theory that her trigger for fire now was _passion_.

And again, he happened to be quite right. On the third day, she was able to summon the flames in various locations around her, without even closing her eyes, or needing an Aria. Much greater progress than with her psychic fields, but even that was theorized by both him and Medea that it was because Fire is different than _force_.

" _Moving things with oneself is one situation. Moving something without touching it is another. Moving it in an exact direction with only a specific amount of speed applied to it is an entirely different concept. Fire though…fire is heat. Heat is warmth. Warmth comes from both within and without."_

" _So just let yourself be surrounded by that warmth. Let it fill you, let it spill out, but tell it where to go when it does."_

He'd finished that day off by telling her something specifically important.

" _Passion…can be positive or negative. Just like fire. It can warm, it can soothe, or it can sear and burn. It can lead to safety, or be the thing that rips someone's life apart. It can bring life, it can take life. The fire burns, and it burns for you. But why it burns…_

 _When you're ready…I know of a kind of fire that burns for seven day and seven nights. A fire that is only Destruction. When the time comes…I want to see if you can wield that fire. Because even if we never get your_ _ **Force**_ _under proper control, a Flame can be just as useful._

… _remind me to introduce you to Witch Hunter Robin later…"_

* * *

It must have been about ten minutes. Soaking in her bathtub, relaxing and calming her mind. She'd just settled in, listening to, of all things, a rather…intense song. Not of hard beats or strong words, but one that was designed to capture a difficult situation. No intelligible words spoken. It was almost…battle choir-like.

The song had just gotten going, when she'd opened her eyes to see of all things, the Phantom Girl frowning at her. Alma gave a start, the tub's waters splashing over the edge from the sudden movement.

 _ **You need to pay attention.**_

Before she could even consider formulating a response, her vision dipped into the familiar blur of shifting views into _his_ head.

Only it was different this time. As she peered beyond her tree, she was treated to the sight of him laying on a couch, with…a _man_ in a loveseat next to him.

He seemed tall, regal looking. Young but…the way he sat, the air around him was…almost _royal_. His chest was bare, skin the color of coffee, a golden necklace interlaced with beautiful multi-colored crystal beads. Rubies and emeralds and something _blue_ that wasn't quite sapphire, linked together by golden twine.

Resting at the center of his torso was a gold chain that led down to an ankh, while golden, jewel-cored bangles were on his wrists and biceps. His hair was black as night and layered in waves around a similarly golden headpiece in the shape of an eye. A pair of amber, tear-shaped earrings yet bare feet, though two anklets, also made of gold.

And of all things, a beautifully ornate, _deadly_ looking spear propped next to him.

" _ **You are jealous."**_

"… _ **am I? I really can't tell…"**_

" _ **This bothers you. Is jealousy not the only possibility?"**_

"… _ **no…no it's…I'm not**_ _ **jealous**_ _ **."**_

" _ **Then what?"**_

"… _ **I think…I'm afraid."**_

The second, royal looking male, spoke in a deep baritone. A rich voice that could send men to their knees, women to the bedroom, and all alike, into either a gathered frenzy, or an entranced calm; all at the speaker's whim.

Clearly someone who took speechcraft to its maximum level.

 _Afraid? Why would he be afraid? Wait, why would he be-_

… _no…it can't be…can it?_

 _But I would have-_

" _ **You've been keeping it well from both of them then."**_

" _ **It's…easy to not focus on any one thing."**_

" _ **Until now."**_

" _ **Until now."**_

" _ **Why fear?"**_

"… _ **it's stupid."**_

" _ **Stupid or not, it's been a distraction."**_

"… _ **so they hooked up right?"**_

" _ **Not a proper relationship at all but yes."**_

"… _ **I think I'm afraid of being alone again."**_

" _ **Foolishness."**_

" _ **Yeah no shit but it's there so we gotta deal with it."**_

" _ **Truly foolishness. She's been just as clingy with you as always."**_

" _ **Hah…don't I know it. And it's…it**_ _ **should**_ _ **be reassuring but…"**_

" _ **But you've fallen into that old trap of uncertainty."**_

" _ **Ugh…"**_

" _ **And why not address this with either of them?"**_

" _ **Maddy would scoff and give me The Stare."**_

" _ **As if she should not."**_

" _ **No, she should. I'd deserve it."**_

" _ **And the other?"**_

"… _ **I actually can't say."**_

" _ **And yet you've acclimated to her presence in your life so quickly that you now fear her leaving it."**_

" _ **You know me, Anubis. Always been quick to fall."**_

" _ **Unfortunately for the rest of us."**_

" _ **Bitch please you know if I didn't you wouldn't exist."**_

" _ **And you'd be a much healthier person for it."**_

"… _ **touché I suppose."**_

" _ **What is the**_ _ **true**_ _ **reason?"**_

"… _ **my pathological need to be desired. To be wanted. To be needed."**_

" _ **It feels threatened. Even though in truth, you know there is no threat."**_

" _ **Illusory threats are still threats."**_

" _ **Hmmph. True."**_

" _ **I guess…it's some stupid worry that…"**_

" _ **You'll be replaced. You sell yourself as a willing tool."**_

" _ **Yeah but that's when I'm taking a distant stance."**_

" _ **This is far from distant."**_

" _ **Exactly. There's a serious emotional component to it…"**_

" _ **You've grown attached. To both of them. And now you worry that they will separate their paths from yours."**_

" _ **it's stupid. Like I said."**_

" _ **And yet a valid concern. You are not the Oracle. Medea is."**_

"… _ **I just watch for patterns."**_

" _ **And the pattern fits. To you, at least."**_

" _ **Aye."**_

" _ **So what is your worry?"**_

"… _ **I don't know. It's one of those…stupid selfish fears."**_

" _ **Personal loss tends to be such."**_

" _ **Here I thought I'd dealt with all that."**_

" _ **Something so inconsistent can never truly be defeated it seems."**_

" _ **Aye."**_

" _ **You worry she will be taken from you?"**_

"… _ **both of them I guess."**_

" _ **Ahh. Not just one or the other. But a loss of both."**_

" _ **The crazy cat lady thing works for all genders you know."**_

" _ **And that isn't a future you desire."**_

"… _ **my best friend is suddenly banging a stupidly powerful psychic that locked herself in my head."**_

" _ **And that bothers you."**_

" _ **Less bother. More…"**_

" _ **Concern with a selfish taint."**_

" _ **it's helped her powers definitely. But…"**_

" _ **It's not**_ _ **you**_ _ **."**_

" _ **Blegh. Hate that thought. Makes me feel shitty."**_

" _ **Obviously."**_

" _ **You know what I mean."**_

" _ **And yet you refuse to intervene?"**_

" _ **Not my place. Doubly so since its helping her control her Fire."**_

" _ **Would a request for clarity not be something you should do?"**_

" _ **Not my place to ask. It's ultimately none of my business."**_

" _ **And yet it is entirely your business, as you are their teacher."**_

" _ **I guess?"**_

" _ **What alters them, alters how they view the world, and in doing so, how they wield their power."**_

"… _ **not wrong on that one."**_

" _ **And is your requested place, not at their side, to guide them in understanding how to divide the Nothing?"**_

"… _ **so you're saying I need to stop being a pussy about this and just bring it up?"**_

"… _ **perhaps."**_

" _ **That was a bit of a wait."**_

" _ **You acknowledge your concern is more personal in nature, yes?"**_

" _ **Hence the silence."**_

" _ **I see. The other risks are mere afterthoughts."**_

" _ **Yeah."**_

" _ **A conundrum then. Your worry has grounds in logic yet ultimately is born from emotion."**_

"… _ **told you it was stupid."**_

The rushing sound came back, even though the man – _Anubis –_ had continued to speak.

 _ **You know what to do.**_

* * *

 _Maybe I should just go lay down. Bit of a headache anyway._

Plate in hand, Seth wandered towards the kitchen, rinsing it off before placing it along with the rest of the kitchenware in his dishwasher.

… _ehh. It's full enough to run._

A bit of goopy liquid, a twist of a knob and the low hum and rushing of running water filled his ears. Nodding to himself, he turned around.

Only to jump in shock as there was a dripping wet, _stark naked_ **Alma Wade** standing in front of him.

"SHITFUCKING HOLYCOCK!"

His heart damn near leapt out of his chest, pounding away at the shock.

"Girl! Don't do-

He was cut off by a pair of droplet coated arms flying around his neck, the woman's damp body pressed against his, tightly. It was a mite unpleasant due to the whole semi-cold dew-covered body thing but most importantly was the almost…desperate embrace he was being engulfed by.

"Alma, what-

"I need you."

He blinked.

"Wait what are you talking about."

"I _need_ you. I need you. I need you. _I need you_. You hear me? I _need_ you in my life. I will _never not_ need you."

Confusion was his middle name for a moment. And then it hit.

 **" _Well…that's embarrassing. It would appear she heard us."_**

"…shit…"

She pulled away, but grabbed his face and stared deep into his eyes.

"I _need_ you. Okay? That will never change. You're where I feel safest. You're…probably doing more for me just by existing than anyone ever has in my whole life. That's the _truth_. I'm _not_ **ever** going to leave you, understand? Didn't I tell you before? You're the _best thing_ that's happened to me since I was a child. I'm dumb but I'm not _stupid_."

"You're not-

"I _am_. I'm a wreck. I'm a mess. I'm a dumb idiot and I know it but I'm _getting better_ and I know _that_ too."

He just sighed. Welp. There went every plan to deal with his stupid little issue.

"It's not-

"She helped me _burn_ again. She helped me figure something about myself out. And I'm happy about that. I'm _glad_ she did, even if she didn't exactly mean to. But it _would_ have, _should_ have been you. I've been trying to _not push_ since…since being _that_ kind of pushy was what led to the badness. I like her. I do. I really, really do. But I _need_ you. She's great and fun and _good god I know now how you feel about her_ but you're my _everything_ and you always will be."

"…sorry."

She shook her head. "Not sorry. Don't apologize, or I'd have to match and we don't have the _years_. You said it to me. You said it to her. You said it in your _book_. We feel what we feel and all we can do is understand it. You're messed up. _I'm_ messed up. She's messed up. We don't feel things like normal people and that's _okay_ , I understand that now."

"…not just cause of that. Cause I didn't say anything."

"I heard."

"I figured."

"He was right. Whoever _he_ was. You both were. None of us are _wrong_ in this, are we?"

He gave a wry chuckle. "Yeah…I guess not."

"You said you fall, and fall hard? Well, I'm already down there. Get on my level, bitch."

This time he laughed.

"You're right. She _was_ good for you."

"You _both_ are. And I need you both. But above all, I need _you_. You're my…my anchor. My safe space. My _home_."

"And yet you still haven't spent a night here."

He wasn't offended. Not in the slightest. It made sense. For many reasons. It was an observation. Not so much to counter her claim, but…provide it a more complete existence.

"And that changes tonight."

Wait what?

 _ **Wait what?**_

"Wait…what?"

"I _wanted_ to. So, so badly, when you offered. But I knew, and I _know_ I've been a drain on you. Shut up, I have. I'm in there."

His mouth closed upon his refusal.

"I've _been_ wanted to. I've been wanting you. I don't know how to people, remember? Everything I blurted out was my true feelings. They just didn't have time to _simmer_ like they did with Medea last week. _That_ came out of nowhere, and was a slow build. With you it was just…everything I'd wanted in life and my only thought was 'claim for babies!' it was…annoying. It _is_ annoying."

"it's kinda cute though…"

"It's still _annoying_."

He shrugged.

"I wanted to. But I knew I _needed_ to give you some space. I'm in your head constantly. And while you've been…wonderfully resilient I didn't want to push my welcome. And now I know I'm not, so I'm telling you, I'm staying over tonight."

"Should grab a sheet for the other-

"No…with you."

"Uhh."

"Look." She sighed. "I want you in me. I want you to pound me till I can't think straight. Medea did stuff to me that had me working muscles I didn't even know _existed_. And I've been in her twice over, thanks to your point of view."

 _ **That's…gotta be a weird feeling.**_

"Not as weird as you'd think. But anyway. I want you. _Badly_. But I'm _waiting_. I know you've got a hell of a sex drive but I know I'm some weird random crazy psychic girl that bound her head to yours and has been invading your privacy and even though you've been _fucking wonderful_ about everything it's not a good situation at all. So while I want to ride you like a damn stallion all the way into next week-

 _ **That'd get painful after a while honestly.**_

-I'm fine with just _sleeping_ with you. I think…I think we _both_ need that."

"And the chance of morning wood?"

"Then I expect to be the relief tool."

"…bit demeaning inn'at?"

She just gave him a look that screamed "don't be stupid."

"Do you want me to drop to my knees right now? Because now I've seen how its done from your angle so I _know_ what you like. I'll do it, I swear."

"Tempting…"

"Yeah?"

"But lets wait on that."

"Dammit."

"Whorrrrrree." He said, rolling the r.

And she countered, by surprising him with a quite gentle kiss.

"For you? You better believe it. Now dry me off and warm me up, mister. It's chilly."


	8. Adaptation

Of course…things went badly. What was a trip outside for more than a quick 'port to Seth's place without something _annoying_ happening?

It was supposed to be just a brief jaunt to the bank. Just a quick trip to change the nature of one of her bank accounts. She'd learned that since she kept a pretty high balance she could waive the maintenance fees entirely.

Sure, she could have done it online, but as part of her…training? Recovery? Lessons?

Whatever it was to be called, it requested she leave the house more. If only to get used to having her field active and bouncing off of other people but not _invading_.

But not ten minutes into the wait (it was a slow day, in the sense that only two tellers were available and the one person who could have helped with her issue had _just_ gone on lunch break) a group of heavily armed men (not replicas, normal people) wearing…paper bags as masks…had stormed in, firing their guns into the air causing everyone to panic.

What security existed was quickly gunned down, and the gunmen were forcing everyone to the ground, but not taking the extra step to secure them.

* * *

Not fifteen minutes after the hold-up began, the bank was surrounded by SWAT. The gunmen, already having begun their descent into the lower vaults, kept their weapons trained on their hostages.

She wanted so badly to just let go. To splatter them all but…

He'd shaken his head, as their eyes met.

Unfortunately…the one called 'Gav' noticed.

"Eey wats all this then? Trying to be a hero?"

Seth gave the paper-bag headed man a confused look, quirking an eyebrow but remaining silent.

"I saw that there. Shaking your head. You takin the mickey? Thinking you're some sort of hot shit? Some kind of plan?"

"Gav either shut up or just shoot the guy already."

"Awww but Maikoo, you don't wanna toy around a bit?"

"No I want to go home to my damn wife now pick one!"

The man with the strange accent shrugged. Just as the other two came back from downstairs, the alarm bells ringing shrilly, he took aim and shot Seth right in the chest.

"Oh what the hell Gavin?!" yelled the only female of the group.

"Thought he was planning something."

"Motherf- We weren't supposed to shoot anybody but security!"

She didn't hear the rest.

Just saw the blood.

He was clutching the wound, struggling not to make a sound.

But he was bleeding. A lot.

He was bleeding.

He was bleeding.

He was bleeding.

Slowly, her head turned to the arguing men and woman.

He was bleeding.

She stood up. Catching the attention of the woman, just after a bullet went by through the entrance doors of the bank.

He was bleeding.

"Miss, please. Sit back down miss, we don't want anymore-

They.

Were **dead.**

The woman was cut off as Alma loosed a shrill, _**furious**_ shriek. Everyone's hands slammed over their ears.

And then 'Jack', went flying.

She blew right through the doors, slamming bodily into a side-ways police cruiser with enough force that her bones snapped on impact, her skull caved in, rivets were torn in her arms as she was launched like a torpedo, causing the cruiser to be splattered with blood, and also tip over to its side.

"Holy shit…"

The ground rumbled, the glass tables shattered, the lamps and lights flickered and exploded. Her hair fluttering around her like a demented night-colored halo, she reached forward, and 'Gav' began to lift off the ground.

All while making _very_ terrified squawking noises.

The struggling brit found his body _burning_. But not in flame. A river of blood erupted from his left side, a spout from his neck, a torrent from his right leg.

She was tearing him apart.

"…I think I found my new best friend."

"Fuck that shit RUN Ryan!"

The accented man screamed and screamed, until his whole body was one big red fleshy pulp that then made a series of disgusting wet crunching noises.

And _then_ was set on fire.

Gunshots rang from outside, but Alma didn't care. She growled, and raced after the two. Bullets flew by her, and anywhere they came from became a red fog as she _splattered_ anything pointing a gun her way. Frantically looking around, she barely made out a fast moving object holding two people.

Recognizing who they were, she growled again, knowing they were moving too quickly for her to chase unless…

 _There!_

* * *

" _This is eye-seventy-five we have visual on the suspects."_

" _Roger that eye-seventy-five. Position?"_

" _Heading due east along fourth towards the highwa-…what the hell?!"_

" _Come again eye-seventy-five."_

" _There's another rider chasing after the suspects and…holy…holy shit."_

" _Eye-seventy-five what's your status."_

" _You're not going to believe this but there's a second motorcycle trailing the suspects with a…a bunch of_ _ **police cruisers**_ _bouncing off buildings around it!"_

* * *

 **(BGM: NieR Automata – Grandma – Destruction)**

 _ **Kill them. Kill them all.**_

 _ **Kill them. Kill them all.**_

 _ **Kill them! Kill them all!**_

 _ **KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!**_

A low growl was the only sound she made, barely perceptible underneath the roar of the motorcycle she'd taken. Having grabbed the face of a man cowering next to it, she ripped into his mind and took all his knowledge of how to ride one.

And now, she was chasing after the men who thought it was a good idea to shoot…

The thought _pissed her off more_. The men ahead were on a single bike but had a good head start on her. Tracking them through lingering mental impulses and following the trail of disrupted traffic, she gave chase.

They had torn through an intersection of red, causing a series of cars to crash and litter the road.

Problem solved by Alma's continuously growing psychic field blowing them out of the way, passengers be damned. As the red streak ripped through, two taxis, a minivan and a sedan all went flying. The taxis fell to the ground harmlessly, rattling but otherwise not hurting their passengers. The minivan crashed through a convenience store's front windows, pinning one helpless shopper underneath, and scattering merchandise all over.

The sedan however, landed right in the middle of a restaurant's outside dining area, smashing through four diners before crashing into its window, smearing a family of three against the ground.

And that didn't include the police cars and other vehicles that had been snagged by her field and were trailing along, until she got too far out of range, where they would then get scattered by the remnant flares, thrown into buildings and people and trees alike.

The men made a hard left towards a railway crossing. Alarms and clanging bells with flashing lights gave warning of an approaching train. Pouring on the speed, they blew through the wooden bars just as the train came down its tracks, missing it by a half-minute.

Alma saw the train and snarled, following suit. Only instead of missing the train, she **tore right through it**. A rippling pulse of her field shot to the exact position the train's cargo was, before twisting outward, _shredding_ one freight carriage, and sending every other flying off the track. She blew right through the hole she created, snagging three of the cargo boxes in her field sending them slingshotting towards herself.

They bounced along the boundaries of her field, rising ever higher as her powers loosened and expanded. The other rider pair hopped over a blockade of two police cars, but once again she followed suit by simply ripping through without a care in the world. The two cars smashed into their drivers with great force, tearing the legs off of one on impact, breaking the ribs of another, and outright crushing a third.

The fourth saw the tornado of metal and rage coming and _bolted_ , escaping with only a broken arm from being clipped by the ripped off railway crossing sign.

Terrified, the men kept riding forward, weaving through traffic and causing crashes left and right, until they got onto the highway. They'd tried to lose their tail by taking a longer route but she doggedly followed them, heralded by the shadows along the ground of floating cars and now freight containers.

It was not the best of ideas.

* * *

" _We have live feed of what looks like a scene from a movie right now. There's what looks like a…storm of floating cars and what might be freight containers, chasing after two motorcycles and their riders along the six-eighty-five highway going northeast."_

" _What are we looking at right now Samantha?"_

" _I don't know. A recent report mentions a bank robbery gone terribly wrong and then…this! One of ours that was doing a report at a local police station mentioned an all-points-bulletin for two men with paper bag masks fleeing the scene, chased by a woman in a red dress that seems to be the center of the…whatever that is."_

" _My god…are…are they being used as_ _ **spears**_ _?"_

* * *

A mighty crash. The first freight bullet missed. Another crunch of metal and an explosion. The second was dodged, but impact an oil tanker and caused it to detonate its payload. The force ruffled her hair ever so slightly.

It also caught three other cars going the opposite direction in the blast. But she didn't care.

The third missed as well. It was just too far ahead of them. However, it tore through the guard rails, which they used to make a quick leap off that particular section, onto a lower one, heading right. Growling, she followed.

And when she did, many more died, for that which her field had caught, was released, dropping on poor unsuspecting drivers.

They reached the beach. Jumping off their bike, the two men tumbled and rolled in the sand, the bike sliding along, barely missing multiple beach goers that had only narrowly gotten out of the way. In a panic, they raced towards the water, knocking over passerby and surfers alike, stumbling in the sand while racing towards a nearby pier.

Said pier had a group of jetski's floating just off of its end, meant to be used for patron's wakeboarding contests but they knocked aside the bouncers, Ryan shooting the air above himself to cause people to scatter, hopping on. Gunning the engines, the two of them tore off into the ocean, just as Alma caught up with them on the beach on her own motorcycle.

They thought they were safe. She couldn't chase them in the water.

…they were wrong.

* * *

They were getting away.

They were getting _away_.

 _They_ were _getting_ **away**.

She could feel it. The headache of _absolute hatred_. The rage of indignation, of pain and sorrow and fear and _hate!_

Hate!

Hate!

Hate!

Hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate _hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate_ _ **hatehatehatehatehateHateHateHateHAteHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE  
HATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE**_ _ **HATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE  
HATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE!**_

"▄▄▄▄▄▄▄!"

The noise emitted from her throat was…impossible to understand. A scream of rage beyond rage. Of hatred beyond hated. Of something… _pure_.

She revved her motorcycle's engine, the back wheel spinning futilely in the sand, kicking up a continuous plume.

The screech heard even over the waters.

But it wasn't merely the screech.

It was what came _next_.

* * *

 **(BGM: NieR Automata – A Beautiful Song)**

" _What…the hell is that…?"_

The sky opened up.

Or rather, it _inverse-closed_.

At the unmistakable **roar** , the sky clouded over into nearly pitch dark grey cover. The beach was coated in swirling, violently spiraling sands, as a literal _explosion_ erupted from where Alma was.

And then, defying all sense of logic or physics, she was _carving through the water's surface like a_ _ **bullet**_ _._

People were _shredded_ from the force propelling her forward. The backwave of power and heat glassed the sand beneath and around her, carving into flesh and bone alike. A gale of blood and bodies, sand and seawater alike, billowed to the heavens.

The clouds above coiled angrily, flickers of sparks racing along their surface. So dense were they that it was as if night itself had come. All while a rocket of rage and hate tore through the ocean's waters towards the two men now severely regretting waking up that morning.

A flash of light.

A bolt of lightning.

The chopper keeping sight on the three of them was hit. Sparks, flame and smoke came from its tail rotor, the chopper spinning wildly as it rapidly lost altitude.

The waters raged as a powerful wind began blowing. A storm had spontaneously appeared beneath the swirling clouds. The waves crashed and rose dangerously beyond anything previously seen before. Yet at the same time, pockets of spiraling whirlpools began forming, while _also_ the waters spun in the opposing directions, reaching towards the sky.

Waterspouts threw heavy scattered walls of saltwater through the air, flashes of light and loud ear-splitting roars echoing in the heavens. The crash and explosion of the now downed helicopter went nearly unnoticed by the continuous audible assault.

The two were in a panic, barely able to keep sight of one another as they tried to navigate the raging sea. The waves were beyond 'choppy', practically becoming towering crests of impending suffering. The saltwater lashed at them like tendrils of a flailing cephalopod stinging their eyes and tearing at their clothing.

And then…they heard something _terrible_.

" _ **QO!"**_

She threw her right hand towards the sky. Reaching with all her might. The rage still in her heart, the fury in her eyes – now glowing a fierce _scarlet_ – locking onto one in particular. The sky roared as a _massive_ forked bolt of lightning shot down from the clouds.

Right into her open palm.

" _ **LOK!"**_

A low vibrating hum rippled through the air. Some of the surviving beachgoers had pulled out cameras and phones, capturing the spectacle before them. The pale blue-white bolt of heaven's fury landed right in the woman's hand, crackling away, sparks flying every which way other than herself.

It turned _blood red._

" _ **MAH!"**_

* * *

A deafening screech.

A flash of light so brilliant it was blinding.

When sight returned…he couldn't hear himself screaming.

" _ **RYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"**_

The makeshift **lightning spear** had launched at blinding speeds. Its target? The robber, Ryan. A direct hit causing a plume of crackling water to explode into the air, the jetski becoming a spark-laden fireball. The man had been pierced right through, milliseconds before the detonation turned his body into a charred, torn-up husk.

The sky had opened up. A shaft of blood-colored light erupting from the clouds. Hundreds of screeching, cawing, bleating, blood covered scab-laden _malformed_ _ **harpies**_ descended from what was clearly now some kind of dimensional fissure.

All of them racing, scrabbling, clawing their way towards the last remaining thief. His head snapped up seeing movement. But it was too late.

They grabbed at his arms and legs. He flailed, he kicked, he struggled and squirmed.

But it was all futile.

They clawed at him. Throwing him into the air where they all raced towards his flailing body. He screamed and gurgled and coughed blood as their claws tore through his clothing, ripping apart his skin. Blood splattered further on everything in the sky with each beat of their wings, each peck of their beaked faces, each swing of their sharpened talons.

Bone was broken, muscle torn. His hair was ripped off of his head, scalp turned into a dented, deformed mess. His left eye was gouged out, his lips split and bloodied, his cheeks torn wide open. His throat was slashed, his hands snapped his legs ripped apart. He could do nothing but choke on his own tongue before that too was ripped out.

And then they all scattered.

As the angry Goddess descended.

It was incredible how he could see her so clearly.

Eyes glowing a hate-filled scarlet red.

Body covered in a blood shimmering glow.

Arm pulled back as she dropped from above.

 **Pink hair fluttering in the winds behind her.**

A torrent of rushing water.

A massive, scaled black fist _bending the air_ as it crashed into him.

The feeling of sharp cold.

The bellowing **roar** of an enraged dragon.

* * *

"…holy shit…"

Three men and two women peered in _horror_ through a series of windows. High above the Earth, in a position between the planet and the orbit of its Moon, rest a space station.

And those that happened to be looking at their home below…were in terrified awe.

As what looked like a massive hurricane both formed and dissipated within a matter of minutes along the upper portion of America's eastern coastline.

Until a red flare of light emerged from its eye.

And they watched as the entire North Atlantic seaboard _vanished_ in a massive wave…

As if the hand of God held an eraser, and decided to _remove the_ _blue from that part of the world._

* * *

"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA **AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!** "

She shot up, screaming.

Her heart was racing. Her body was layered in at least three coats of sweat. Her eyes were wide and unfocused.

Breaths coming in short gasps, Alma looked around wildly.

It was dark. It was night. It was _calm_.

Panting, she fell back towards her pillow, struggling to calm her breaths.

"…fuck…"

That…had been one _hell_ of a dream.

"…that's the last time I'm eating General Tso's Chicken before bed…"

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 07 –** _ **Adaptation**_

 **(BGM: Sonic 3D Blast [Saturn] – Gene Gadget Zone Act 1)**

" _ **Are you ready?"**_

The two women stood in front of the large monitor. On the left, Medea, clad in a pair of dark green sweatpants and a bright blue sports bra. On the right, Alma. In her pink pajama bottoms and a red tank top.

A week after spending an extremely calming night with Seth, Alma had joined Medea in her personal favored workout routine.

A computer music game called 'Stepmania'.

" _Took a little bit to wrangle the setup so my PC would accept inputs from the USB mats but…"_

" _It's fun, keeps me coordinated, and grounded in the Now. Plus, you think I kept this figure without any kind of effort?"_

As the song began, the two stood panting, side by side. They'd just come off of a rather fast-paced number that neither of them did amazing on. For Medea, it doubled as a test to keep herself from looking ahead at times she didn't need to. For Alma, it was training on not reflexively looking into someone's mind under duress.

One wouldn't think much could be stressed from playing a game, but one would be a fool and to be eaten by a giant lizard man for thinking so. In Alma's case, it was more that _any_ stress could trigger her power reaching out to try to grasp a mind to track. So this was a conscious effort to keep that power at bay.

The techno beats gave way to piano keys as the girls bounced on their feet, making sharp movements and rapid steps. Alma and Medea were not on the same difficulty level, with Medea being on a more advanced arrow pattern than the psychic next to her. But both had their work cut out for them, as while not terribly fast, the song had fairly janky movements.

That would be Seth's fault, as since this was a custom song, he was responsible for creating the step pattern.

Which he cheated and did with a controller.

Dickhead.

Speaking of Selh'teus, he was on Medea's laptop, scrolling through an email he'd received that morning. Its contents confirmed something he'd been hoping for, in the past week. Pleased, he logged out of his account and closed it, leaning back on the couch and just enjoying the view.

Two beautiful women wearing little, bouncing on the balls of their feet to techno music while he sat back and watched?

 _ **I am living the dream arent I?**_

" _ **Hmph…let me get the black haired one for five minutes."**_

Alma nearly missed a step, distracted by the new, _female_ voice echoing through the depths of Seth's mind.

Well _now_ shit just got _pointlessly_ hard.

 _ **Eh?**_

" _ **Come on bro. Five minutes. Show that little bitch what Fire really is."**_

 _ **Kira…are you jealous?**_

" _ **YES! Look I like Maddy but come on she's a Time not a Fire. Why haven't you bedded Alma yet?"**_

… _ **you know she's probably hearing you right now…right?**_

" _ **Question stands! She's cute she wants you bad and every other sentence is her ASKING you to dick her down!"**_

A burst of embarrassed lust washed over the psychic. It was…different, actually. Partly his, partly her own.

But that's what she focused on. That he _had_ part of it.

… _he_ _ **does**_ _want me…_

… _ **I…well…y'know…**_

" _ **You're being stupid. Still! You two slept together! NAKED! And nothing happened! Even though we ALL know you wanted to! Hell SHE wants you to! Why are you being dumb about this?!"**_

…

" _ **Rrrgh! Fine! HEY ALMA! GET OVER HERE AND RIDE THIS CO-**_

 _ **Don't make me get the spray bottle you oversexed furball!**_

Luckily, the song had come to an end there. Medea was saying something but Alma was focusing _very_ hard on listening to her head, and not her hormones. Medea had noticed the girl's flushed face, recognizing the slight red tint in her eyes as not one of physical exertion but something else.

"Goddammit Seth are you perving on her _now_ of all times?"

"wait what?"

" _ **I WISH!"**_

 _ **Quiet you!**_

"Who…who is Kira?"

That made both Medea _and_ Seth freeze.

" _ **Oh…oh shit. You weren't kidding. She-she can hear me."**_

… _ **she heard…or saw…or something…a conversation between me and Anubis last week.**_

"… _ **I thought that was just really really good timing."**_

He sighed. "Yeah…not so much." He muttered aloud.

Leaning back, he flicked his wrist. A pair of fluttered cloths flew towards the two girls, towels to wipe themselves down with. Closing his eyes, Alma _felt_ the quiet descend over his mind. Even the sound of the rivers were dimmed.

"Kira is…one of seven partitions of my mind born from a mild psychotic episode I had when I was thirteen."

" _ **Hi…sorry about…sorry."**_

"It's fine. Seven partitions?"

"Remind me some time to show you NiGHTS…basically they're…family."

Medea had sat next to him, grabbing him and making an odd combination of push-pulls to get his head into her lap. It wasn't anything he was embarrassed about, nor was it something he tried to hide. But it was…unusual. He didn't fear judgment but at the same time it wasn't a topic he brought up often.

"Family?"

"Where I had none. Or rather, _felt_ I had none. The short of it is if I stayed home from school too often, as in within a few weeks of each other, my mother would…just start ranting and raving bullshit about me in her room."

Her head tilted in confusion.

" _ **With the door wide open."**_

Ahh. That explained things.

"So after a couple years of hearing bullshit come out of her mouth about how I was gonna grow up a failure and how I was lazy and always pulling one over on her to get out of going to school I…well…broke. Back then, I still loved her as my mother, y'know? Asshole nature aside. It's what we're conditioned to do. But…"

" _ **She'd been lying to him fairly often. Telling him untruths or at best half-truths. Or just laughing at his questions and not answering them. She'd always tell him things that made her look good while putting down someone else, regardless of how true it was or not."**_

"Yeah…I'd catch her in one, and she'd get petty about it. Hell there was one time when I was…what…eight maybe? That I dunno I did _something_ she found offensive. And she went to spank me. And y'know, as a living being, I see a hit coming, I react to protect the area. Problem was I was holding a pencil at the time. So the idiot impales herself on the pencil slightly, and then holds it against me for months. Going on about a piece of led stuck in her finger and constantly guilting me about it even though it was her own damn fault."

A frown was marring Alma's face. Medea was silent, just gently stroking his hair. She knew the story behind the Break.

In all honesty, compared to many others, his was a lot less damning. But he was still a child. A child that noticed the abuse going on to him, that noticed the lies and wrongdoings, and _definitely_ noticed that there was nobody on his side.

"So that day, when I was thirteen, sitting on the toilet with my gut roaring in rebellion, I hear her going on like usual. And it just hits me. She doesn't love me. She never did. She'd sing my praises when I managed something successful and would constantly try to take credit for the few things I was good at or enjoyed, when I _knew_ that she was full of shit. But any other time, I was a lazy piece of shit liar kid, and she'd make sure I knew it."

He shrugged, tonelessly.

Yes, that sentence makes sense. Think about it a bit.

"So…I Broke. Started crying."

" _ **I wasn't the first. Hell I think I was the…third? Fourth? Maybe fifth. But…imagine…something in your chest tearing itself apart. And then something in your head cracking like glass. And then imagine just…a cold…goop. Running through your veins. And then just the…not the thought. Not the inkling. But the Knowledge…that you're alone."**_

She could imagine it just fine. Even without the connection to his mind. It was a very similar feeling to what she went through as a child when her father sealed her away.

"Almost immediately after…I heard a voice inside myself. It wasn't mine…yet it was. It felt like a part of me but also someone else. It was…comforting. Reassuring. She helped me realize that I was alone but not by myself. That I didn't need that woman to be my mother. That I could make my own family. That I could _be_ my own family. And then over the years…more showed up."

A strange thing had been happening however.

Medea, absently stroking his head, had fallen into a vision.

A vision of…

A dark place. Illuminated by a single violet glow from beneath.

A child…Seth…crying.

A pair of arms wrapping around him from behind.

A fluttering maroon cloth.

 **A low…warning growl.**

Her eyes snapped back into focus.

… _what…what was that…?_

" _ **Three male, Four female. Each one representing a different aspect. All pieces of his shattered mind and will, intentionally given forms and personalities. We're all him, but we've long since become ourselves as well."**_

"After I hit around 20 and started getting some of my shit together, they got quieter. More background. There but not as active. It was something I'd expected anyway. But…"

"You still have voices that arent entirely yours in your head."

"…yeah."

"Well…that explains a lot."

…Should she tell him?

…yes. Yes she should.

She opened her mouth with the intention of telling him about the Phantom Girl.

But…nothing came out.

She blinked wildly.

And then suddenly there _she_ was.

 _ **Not yet. It's not time yet.**_

 _He needs to know! He has a right to-_

 _ **He does. But not now. Soon. Very soon in fact. But it's not time yet.**_

Reluctantly Alma let it drop. The Phantom Girl was…she didn't know what the girl was. But she was powerful.

"I…Thank you. For telling me. It was driving me up a bridge trying to figure out what those extra voices were."

"Don't you mean up a wall?"

"No. A bridge. Y'know, the ones that open and close?"

He blinked. Medea snorted.

"…I don't think I'll ever understand how your mind works."

"…sorry."

"That's honestly quite refreshing." He replied. "Most people fall into the same patterns constantly. The only pattern _you_ have is that you really want to fuck me senseless."

"Other way around."

" _ **Other way around bro."**_

"…oh god no you two are agreeing on things…"

" _ **Damn right we are! And we BOTH want you to put it in her! So get on that!"**_

* * *

The email, as it turned out, was from a man Seth had met in passing two years prior on a temp job at a construction site. He had found an ad on Craigslist about a used car in very good condition for a more than fair price. It just so happened, the seller, was someone he knew.

" _I figured since we're all going to be running around each other a lot, it was time I got a car. That, and we need to teach you how to drive."_

" _Not that I'm gonna complain about the extra learning but…why? I can just teleport everywhere."_

" _Even somewhere you've never been and don't know anyone there to lock onto?"_

"… _yes…? It's not as easy but…"_

" _Alright so what if we find a dead zone?"_

"… _I see your point."_

Dead zones were what he called 'spaces where the unnatural cannot exist'. He didn't know of any offhand, having never encountered any but he wasn't taking anything by chance. With the unusual nature of everyone's powers suddenly appearing, then logic dictated that eventually someone, something, or some _where_ would be able to generate some kind of field or wave or signal that could block, strip, reverse or outright _drain_ such abilities.

The idea was, should something happen and everyone be caught in such a situation, normal everyday skills would suddenly be supremely useful. Something like knowing how to swim even if you can fly, would help if you ran into a negation array while over the waters. Knowing how to drive even if you can teleport? Well, it would let you keep a low profile as well as transport multiple people.

The man in question lived in a modest house across the city. It would be an hour's bus ride, but the day had no plans for Alma and Seth. Medea on the other hand, had to visit her College to check in on something.

Thus, the psychic and the Voidwalker took a bus trip to go get themselves a car. The ride over was calm, Alma spending most of the ride with her head on his shoulder while they both listened to their individual music, the girl keeping a calmer series of songs playing while she relaxed halfway into the world inside his head.

 _I really need to think up a name for that place…_

… _ **crystarium…**_

 _Crystarium…? …I like it. It's pretty._

… _ **its what it is…idiot…**_

The true question was…why did the voice of the Phantom Girl seem to dislike her? Almost every conversation or meeting ended with the teenage-looking girl insulting Alma in some way. It was as if Alma's existence offended her, but was reluctantly accepted due to no other choice.

Powerful psychic Alma might be, but even Alma knew that if she was locked in the mind of another, and that mind was able to overpower hers, her personality could be damaged if not absolutely destroyed.

Let alone if said person was capable of riding the connection _backwards_ into Alma's own mind.

Still…the Phantom Girl was not a part of Seth's mind that he was aware of…apparently. Or at least, not one he was consciously aware of. Alma had seen her appear in the reflection off of Medea's eyes in that memory but…

 _One day…I'm going to figure out who you are._

… _ **one day…**_

Well…at least there was no question about that…


	9. Avian

The bus rumbled as it proceeded along its route. Sitting near the middle, Medea absently stared out the window, bored. Bored…and thinking.

As the task she had to deal with at her college was an administrative one – one that apparently couldn't be dealt with over the phone, to her annoyance – she had decided to dress a little more conservatively. It irked her further that it was due to Seth's influence that she had started truly _enjoying_ wearing the lace and heavier gothic lolita inspired dresses. This was because now she found herself _preferring_ that style over anything else.

Her experiences in _absolute freedom_ had infected her, it seemed, and being made to wear something that wasn't what she preferred was beginning to irritate her more and more often. Truly, she didn't understand why that was. Perhaps it was due to her touching the Void so often now, being around someone who was effectively one of its Emissaries. When you experience the freedom of being even temporarily without burden it…sticks with you, it seems.

In no way shape or form would she be losing her hair color, however. Anyone who tried would be immediately dismissed as irrelevant. She'd had the blue for years now, it was as a part of her identity as her powers were.

Still, she sat bored…and confused.

For the past half hour's ride, she would occasionally see flickers of empty space…surrounded by of all things, floating black _feathers_. Occasionally, she would hear the cry of a bird, or the flapping of wings. At one point she glimpsed a head of black hair, that was neither Seth's nor Alma's.

This…concerned her. The view was hazy, it was faded and difficult to make out. The sounds were muffled and distorted, as if heard through layers of concrete.

But she could still experience it.

That…shouldn't have been possible.

She was seeing flickers of visions involving _him_. She remembered the vision when she first _played_ with Alma. The flicker of view of the three of them. It was hazy, but it was _strong_. And…it wasn't entirely wrong. While the three had not _lay_ together just yet – hell not even Seth and Alma had and while she pretended it meant little to her, she was beginning to grow tired of him not simply just grabbing the woman and ravishing her senseless like she was effectively _begging_ him to – they _had_ bonded. Strongly.

Medea and Alma's discussions over their individual foresight powers had been something the bluenette (that's a word now, Alma's decree) enjoyed. Selh'teus was always good for it but having never truly experienced such a thing, he freely admit that he was only able to look at it from a conceptual point of view.

Tainted by anime, of course.

But as far as she'd known for the past few years, she couldn't see anything with him involved. …except now…she was getting flickers of faded views. And…they didn't look like things that had _happened_ …but rather, things that had yet to be.

There was no accompanying sign of overextension. She had no extra headaches, no sudden weariness or lethargy or loss or even _gain_ of appetite. There was no trembling no unusual stiffness…there was no outward sign of her attempting to Gaze Beyond Nothing at a time she was not ready to.

 _...I need to tell him. …tell him what I'm seeing._

Medea Wolfe was a very independent woman. After spending years being bombarded by visions of the future (even ones only seconds ahead) she grew quickly to stand upon her own two feet. Her 'knowledge' of the day she was to die, turned her into a rather cold individual, trying to keep a distance between her and her peers, for what was the point of getting close when it was decreed she would die before finishing high school?

She was strong, capable, intelligent and rarely asked for help. Not out of pride or ego, but because she rarely _needed_ it.

…and then she met him. And he was the scariest thing she'd ever encountered.

And _then_ he saved her life.

Her life was thrown into disarray, her belief system turned on its head, all that confidence shattered in a single act. That it wasn't done out of malice or even intention, but merely a _side effect_ of him defying what she thought was Absolute Truth…

The love didn't come until about a year after that. The attraction not till a couple of months into his tutelage. But…but the _trust_ …

She clung to him like a _lifeline_ after she got back to school. Looking back, it was very much out of character, very noticeable. She would…not so much _hover_ but…refuse to not be in the same space as him if she could help it. It was a very drastic change, and many had questioned her about it.

But she had bottled her fears and uncertainties and radiated them outwards as a wall of faux confidence and frostiness. She didn't want to admit it to anyone but herself and to him, but she _needed_ him. She needed him _badly_.

… _the way Alma needs him now._

Indeed.

Medea had been the one to push him into writing his book. Or as he called it, the 'stream of consciousness that ended up being a book-thing.' She was clinging and needy but he had been her pillar, her guide her…

Her lover.

There _were_ mild romantic inclinations towards him. How could there not be? He was her star in the night sky, after all. She regained herself, all because of him. She had a self to regain, all because of him. Her life was flipped around and thrown into chaos but he taught her how to navigate it, how to _properly_ predict it.

Not through visions or psychic powers but through pattern recognition. Through application of 'ripple-planning'.

Through simply relaxing and understanding that not always is the unknown to be feared.

Yes…their lives now revolved around the other, like a pair of planetoids orbiting the same star.

 _Though he'd probably declare himself more a Moon than anything…_

Alma had discussed with her, his worries, after their little tryst. Medea was fairly surprised actually. She was certain he wouldn't care. And to an extent he didn't. It made him feel even more… _real_ to learn that he was slightly jealous of her.

One night during that week, she… _reminded_ him, who her _Master_ was.

Her heart skipped a beat when she recalled that night, her lips quirking into a small smile.

Yes…she was quite independent. But one of the important parts of being independent is knowing when its time to _stop_.

He was her _Master_. Because only he had proven worthy of that. Because he was the one to guide her through the Nothing.

But most importantly…because she _chose_ him, to do so.

He wasn't a God. He wasn't even a fragment of perfection. He was loud, crude, filthy, antagonistic, loving, gentle, kind, approachable, forceful…he was…he was _human_. He was _real_. And he never tried to be anything other than himself. And that's what drew her to him in the end. He was more than willing to teach her how to understand that she knew nothing.

She came, for his skills. She stayed…because she never wanted to leave his side.

It went beyond the infatuation stage. They had argued, they had fought, they had slung hatred and rage at each other. …but in the end…they were the same.

She isolated herself as best she could out of respect for others, knowing her end was coming. …he was simply isolated. He didn't _think_ like normal people, and that showed. He didn't try to hide it at all. He thought from multiple angles and sometimes timelines. He thought _sideways_ where some would struggle to even think backwards.

They were both lonely individuals, given a power beyond their comprehension…

He didn't apologize through words. He didn't even really show _love_ through words.

He acted. If he felt sorry about something, there would be an upsurge in unexpected and unexplained helpfulness from him. Someone who knew his patterns and knew him would know where to look to see that he had intervened in your name, in your honor. And it would remain, until he felt that he'd spent enough time making up for whatever he'd done.

And if he _loved_ you…

It was little things. A bag of kit-kats when she was having a particularly rough period. A cup of tea when she was having a hard time sleeping. Demanding she take naps in his room when she was overloaded by her studies.

…bringing her dinner when she hadn't eaten in far too long because she was wrapped up in her own head.

It took her a couple years to realize that…he expressed his love not just through hugs and kind words or obvious things…but that he took _friendship_ to a new level.

Friends would buy friends chocolate during their periods. Friends would bring friends out for tea or coffee to unwind. Friends would let friends sleep over and have dinner at their place to keep calm.

…but friends wouldn't always keep track of your periods, and have two bottles of painkillers on hand during that week. Friends wouldn't always mind your schedules and make sure to have your favorite tea around for when you crammed too hard. Friends wouldn't always make sure to step up the second you needed intervention to get _rest_.

He took what friendship was and amplified it, if he loved you.

So it was quite obvious to her, that Alma was beginning to get to that point. Alma was always instantly reacting, sometimes appearing to predict his queries or requests or even actions just before he committed to them. But that was because she was in his head at all times.

But watching _him_ begin to simply start… _acting_ in regards to the black haired Psychic…

A part of her felt a little jealous. He was no longer simply _hers_. He was no longer only _her_ Master.

…and then she remembered the torrent of moan-screams that Alma made, writhing in confused, agonized pleasure beneath Medea's fingertips and the jealousy faded abruptly.

Alma may have come and put a shared claim on him…but it was _Medea_ that _claimed_ Alma first.

 _Hmm…you're slipping Master. You're the one who should have been the first to make her forget how to walk._

A wall of black feathers.

The heavy fluttering of many wings.

A flicker of black hair.

… _is that a_ _ **sword**_ _?!_

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 08 –** _ **Avian**_

… _what is that feeling…?_

The walk to the house where which the man that Seth was going to purchase a vehicle from was silent. It wasn't terribly long, maybe another five minutes after the bus ride, but it was spent in quiet, Alma being a few steps behind. Her eyes were darting this way and that, taking in her surroundings, glancing off the surface thoughts of what few people they passed, mind partially submerged in the place she was now calling the 'Crystarium'.

But something felt…off. Wrong off. Not so much _bad_ wrong off, but…misplaced. Like a portrait that was ever so crooked. You can barely notice it, but something about the angle felt incorrect. Or a television image that was ever so slightly washed out. Imperceptible to most.

It was a tickling at the edge of her senses, a feeling of being watched, but one that was…scattered too widely. It was another reason she was gently letting herself brush the minds of anyone they passed. She was trying to find the source, or sources, of the sensation.

Honestly it was only bothersome because she couldn't tell where it was coming from. It felt like it was coming from multiple directions at once. As if many pairs of eyes had locked onto her and were watching her every move, but she couldn't _find_ them. It made her uneasy. She honestly didn't care if she was being watched – she used to walk around _naked_ for a few months after all – she just wanted to know who was doing the watching, and why.

"Aaaand here it is."

It was a modest two storey house. Triangular shaped roof, a circular window at the very top. Outer walls painted a cedar brown. It was plain and unassuming. A small wooden door with a rather decadent looking oval window with multiple refracting glass panels. The two walked up the small stone walkway to the front door, Alma's feeling of unease growing with every step, and Seth pushed the small button on the side, ringing the bell.

She debated whether or not to tell him about the uneasy feeling. As the few seconds turned into a minute, she screwed up her courage and took a step forward, just as the door opened.

"Jacob you rat bastard how've you been?"

* * *

Jacob Pryce was a man in his mid fourties. Cinnamon brown hair peppered with flakes of white from the stresses of his job, fair skin with many laugh lines along his face, a small scar on his left cheek from an incident as a teenager, and rich brown eyes gazing at the young adult in front of him.

He was a simple man who lived a single life (for now)…who happened to stumble into something much bigger than himself.

"You never change, do you kiddo?"

"pfft, and give the world a reason to feel justified? Fuck that."

He was a good man. Owner of a small demolition company. One that crossed paths with the young man in front of him only two years ago. A job that almost went wrong, if it wasn't for the self-proclaimed 'Voidwalker' stepping in.

A man, who had just suddenly found himself flung backwards, as a twist of air, and a torrent of _black feathers_ burst into place behind him. His surprise was mirrored on the face of both the young man and his lady friend, as suddenly a pair of legs attached to a waist connected to the torso of an arm belonging to a trembling young woman pointing of all things, a katana, at the chest of the man who was here about an ad for a used car; dominated his view.

"Get back! You won't take him from me too!"

* * *

The second the girl – woman, appeared, Seth's hand slid out behind him. He knew Alma would likely try to set the girl on fire or blow her away or shred her or something, and he didn't want her intervening.

It was a brief assessment, but it was very obvious, the girl was _terrified_. The blade was held in a firm but shaking grip, her green eyes – like emeralds really – were wild, her black hair was kinked and messy, her stance suggested absolute terror but resolve to face it.

It was impressive really. And the fact that she'd _teleported_ just added to it all.

It was only a few seconds after she'd appeared, thrown his friend backwards further into the house behind her, and spoken, before Seth came to a conclusion.

Gently, he leaned to his right, to peer around the girl and her blade.

"…Jake. I know you said you like 'em young but isn't this a bit much?"

* * *

… _oh god why._

"I mean seriously, she could be your daughter – miss it's alright I'm a friend listen just blink if you understand me – I know you've got some weird tastes but come on you can be better than that – are you here of your own free will? Blink once for yes and twice for no – I'm sure there's some nice woman out there waiting for you and you don't have to prey upon the youth cause come on she's like what sixteen? – seriously once for yes twice for no – and I know the idea of virgin pussy's a great sounding concept in theory but trust me man it's sooo much better when she's got experience."

"Oh my GOD she's my Niece you fuckhead!"

Seth's eyes locked with the girl's. She was still trembling, but was now looking _very_ confused.

"I didn't know you were from the south."

"Fuck you!"

"I-… _I am not a whore!_ " the girl suddenly blurted out, a mixture of shock, indignation and confusion in her voice.

"Never said you were, sweetie, seriously once for yes twice for no. Just that your apparent uncle has some questionable tastes."

"I'm _not_ fucking my damn niece Rodin!"

"I should very well hope not considering that would mean we're related and I'd be familially obligated to take her home with me out of your perverted deviant clutches."

"For the love of fu- Raven! Could you _please_ put the sword down?!"

"I…he's… _ **what?!**_ "

"Pleased to meet you. Raven, was it? I'm a friend of your uncle's, here about a car he's selling. We go back a couple years when I saved one of his workers from a fairly unpleasant fate of having a wrecking ball dropped on her head."

She opened her mouth.

"From fifty feet up."

And promptly closed it.

"…I don't know…what the hell…"

"Yeah you get that a lot dealing with this fucker. Dammit Seth. Fucking my Niece? Really?"

Jacob had gotten to his feet, rubbing his shoulder which had hit the ground surprisingly hard – the girl was stronger than she looked – and gently placed his hand on her arm, pushing down and making her lower her sword. She looked back at her uncle, abject loss and confusion in her eyes, as she quietly stepped back.

"S-sorry…" she mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Hey man all I knew was I had a volatile situation between some teleporting chick with a sword and a damn pyrokinetic on my hands I had to come up with _something_." Seth replied as he and Alma stepped through the threshold of the house.

"Pyro-…get into that later. And you picked _that_?"

"Refuge in audacity. Hard to stay tense or angry or afraid when suddenly there's a flaming horse demon with a fifteen inch cock spraying confetti up a pink rhino's asshole in the middle of the confrontation."

"I understand you just spoke words but the order of them leaves me not wanting to believe what you just said."

"And that goes to prove I did my job right. Chaos Reigns Supreme."

"Chaos Reigns Supreme." Echoed the girl, unconsciously. Realizing what she just said, she jolted up, once again, eyes meeting Seth's.

He gave her a quizzical look, as if he were trying to figure her out.

 _She looks familiar…now that I think about it._

Then suddenly she jolted again, realizing something.

"Wait, you're selling your car?"

Jacob blinked at the sudden subject change. "Uhh…yeah. I am. I've got a perfectly good truck in the garage."

"But…why? You liked that car."

"Well uhh…for you…really."

She blinked, head tilting, bangs getting in her eyes.

"For…oh. …oh god I almost ruined your deal. …shit."

"pfft more like made it interesting. Was _not_ expecting teleporter with a katana in my face when I set out to buy a car this morning."

"…I…sorry…"

"Raven what. Seriously why did you just…do, _that_?"

"I…" she hunched in on herself. Seth opened his mouth to say it was fine when-

"The crows told me the Destroyer was coming and she was walking right to the house and there was a big Empty next to her and then suddenly they were at the door and I _panicked_ and thought you were going to die so I just grabbed my sword and refused to let them take anything _more from me_ even though mom was kind of an _asshole_ she was still mom and now she's dead and I was…scared."

They all blinked.

"…Raven-

"Is that a tic of _all_ teleporters because you do the word-vomit thing too." Jacob was cut off by Seth turning to Alma and querying her.

Surprised at suddenly being put on the spot, Alma just sputtered.

"Wha-it-you… _I don't know how to people dammit!_ "

Just as suddenly he whirled around to the other dark haired teleporter in the room. "Do _you_ people?"

She blinked. "Not…particularly well…?"

"Huh. Eww. I'm the normal one. Gross."

"Kid…if you're normal…I fear for the country's future."

"Pfft, should fear for its future regardless. It's going down the hole. Anyway! Crows?"

The girl, Raven, plopped down on a lounge chair, still a little overwhelemed.

"I…yeah. I can…talk to birds…kinda."

"That explains the feather-port. And they said something about a Destroyer?"

"…her." She gestured to Alma.

Who sighed. Heavily.

He looked over to her. "…rent, huh?"

Alma shrugged. "You are hers. I may be yours but she clearly claims ownership of you first."

"Blasted cat. Destroyer?"

Alma tilted her head. "I guess it makes sense. In the Bad Future a lot of carrion birds were commonplace because of all the corpses and blood rituals. Non-psychics would get ill around me when I was projecting back in the damn bubble…they chalked it up to some kind of water contamination but really it was just bleedover. Most prey animals still run away from me even now so I guess the predator ones can sense me as some kind of super predator?"

"We need to visit a zoo or something."

"Can we _not_ I'd kinda rather not have a riot on my hands and only be able to set things on fire."

"After you figure out your Force then."

"Acceptable."

"You…you're…psychic?" Raven cut in, awed.

"Extremely. Telepathy, Telekinesis, Teleportation, and a bit of Pyrokinetic as well. It's…tough."

"She's basically Dark Phoenix."

" _FUCK ME!_ " Raven exclaimed leaning back. Even Jacob knew who that was and was looking at the slip of a girl with a more appraising view.

Alma shook her head. "I've spent the last year trying to keep my powers under control but…it's not easy. Thankfully this _douche_ here is helping me learn from the ground up."

Raven nodded almost sagely. "To become a Something, one must begin as Nothing."

Seth's eyes snapped to the girl's.

"Interesting philosophy, Raven."

She flushed slightly. "Mariko."

"Eh?"

"My name is Mariko Kusumi. Raven's just…a handlename…cause…cause of the bird talking…thing…" she trailed off, head bowed.

"Fair enough. Asian?"

"Ahh…yeah. My father is…was…Japanese. …mymotherwascauc."

It took a second. And then Jacob gave a pained sigh.

Seth just stared at the girl, waiting till she glanced up at him, her cheeks flushing heavily.

"That was bad and you should feel bad." He said in the most dead, neutral tone possible.

Raven – Mariko, just gave a nervous smile, bowing her head.

"Still…I recognize that line. You read that book too?"

Her head snapped up. "By Nothingness Ascendant?"

He nodded.

"Cover to cover. For years."

"Yeah…I dunno. Not a fan."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I mean the guy sounds like a real asshole. Can't write to save his life."

Alma's eyebrow quirked.

"He wasn't _writing_ …he was _speaking_."

"Needs to take some speech classes then cause jeez. Can't keep to one topic for the life of him. Real shitty guy."

Even Jacob knew not to start talking shit on his niece's favorite book. "Seeeeth…?"

"I mean he's a real dickhead. Can't stand him."

A glare was now fully on her face. Her lips turned into an angry snarl. "You don't have _any_ idea what the **fuck** you're-

"I mean really" he cut her off, "what kind of shitbag goes and starts viciously teasing the girl who _called him her best friend_?"

"-tal…king…wait…wait what?"

Her mouth was twitching, her hands were shaking, she was adrift in a sea of confusion and dying rage.

"Allow me to _properly_ introduce myself." Seth leaned forward, eyes never leaving hers.

"Selh'teus Rodin. Voidwalker. Chaos Lord. The man in the Garden of Empty. Practitioner of the Sword Logic. _Nothingness Ascendant._ But most importantly, **your best friend.** "

She froze. Her eyes locked onto his. The words cycled through her brain. Over and over and over.

Your best friend.

 **Your** best friend.

 _ **Your best friend.**_

" _ **So don't you**_ _ **dare**_ _ **make fun of this book! He's not the best writer around and he even**_ _ **admits that**_ _ **but he writes like a person talks and he writes for us, he writes for**_ _ **me**_ _ **and he's a man who is trying to be a friend to the ones who don't feel like they have a future, the ones who are wandering around without any hope, the ones who want to just crawl into bed and chug a fucking bottle of asprin so they'll never wake up so go**_ _ **fuck yourself**_ _ **because he's the only friend I've**_ _ **got!**_ _ **"**_

"Y-you…"

"Imagine my surprise…" He spoke softly, still staring right at her. "When I learn that the stupid little stream of consciousness I spat out over the course of a few months, not only sold quite well, but touched someone so deeply it kept them afloat in a sea of despair."

Her legs gave out. She fell backward onto the loveseat, eyes wide.

"Consider my shock, when I find out that there existed a person so enthralled with the absolute _junk_ I spewed in a fit of depression, that they took my words to heart and _lived_ from them."

This…this couldn't be happening. It was impossible. The chances of something like this occurring were just astronomically small.

…and yet…

"Believe my amazement…that the words of a complete nobody, the spewing of a fractured mind angry at the world and raging against the injustice thrown against its youth…were felt important enough to be considered a complete stranger's _best friend_."

…this was _real_.

Alma herself had no defense against the _burst of pure joy_ that ripped through her, the young woman sitting across from Seth, practically _roaring_ it from within.

… _yes…it's because he can do_ _ **that**_ _to someone he's never met before…_

 _That's why I love him._

He gave her a soft smile. "Hello, Mariko. Sorry I'm late. How've you been?"


	10. Learning

She didn't speak about him very often.

Well, to be fair, she didn't speak very often to begin with. Even at the age of 22, she had very few people (practically none, really) she spoke regularly to.

Though her display at 17 years old, which ended up with a Principal, five teachers, and a Superintendent fired for basically advocating and then subsequently mocking teenage suicide; got her support from her classmates and even some faculty in the school, ultimately, she was left alone.

Her mother never liked her. The mistreatment wasn't obvious, but it was made of snide comments and dispassionate looks as she grew up. Her father had long since abandoned them both, leading to her mother to have a reinforced belief of her being nothing but a burden.

When she began to understand the caws and barking sounds of the birds around her, even able to converse (in english mind you) back, her mother's disdain grew.

When she found herself vanishing in place after a cabinet nearly dropped on her head, appearing next to said mother just in the other room in a burst of distorted space and a small poof of black feathers, her mother just stared at her, shocked and disgusted.

All through that time (actually starting around when she began understanding the birds), she had been reading _that book_. On the days when her mother's clipped words and harsh glances got too much, she retreated to his words. On the days the silence from her classmates, the isolation from friendship, led her to tears, she dove into his lessons.

On the days she found herself standing in the bathroom, hooded, dull green eyes, tear-streaked black eye shadow, matted, filthy, feather-coated hair gazing back at her, long carving knife held in a trembling fist, blade positioned ever-so-gently over the vein on her wrist…

It was his _presence_ that had her never go through with it.

Instead, she'd later request one of her bird friends, to peck her shoulder. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to mark the skin for a little bit.

She never spoke of him regularly.

Someone like him…you'd expect the standard words to be thrown around.

Hero. Savior. _God_.

He was. But he was so much _more_ than that.

He was her sounding board. She'd wrote hundreds of letters to him. All sealed. All signed. None sent. His pseudonym was chosen well and there was no contact information given. He wanted to be completely anonymous.

 _ **A voice in the abyss that called back.**_

But she wrote. And she wrote. And she wrote.

Some containing her week's experience. Some just venting her emotions. Some asking his own life, and feelings. And some begging for him to come set her free from her own personal hell.

 _ **Get it out of you. Even if it doesn't go anywhere, even if it doesn't do anything. Just get it out. It can get loud in your own head, so loud that it feels stiflingly quiet. When that happens, it doesn't matter how you get it out just get it out.**_

 _ **Be safe about it though. You want there to be a you to come back to afterward.**_

It kept her going.

She would read that book, over, and over, and over. Skipping passages and chapters on days she just needed to _feel_ certain words. Committing it to memory. Slowly, painstakingly, she would reinforce her own mind whenever it broke.

 _ **Breakage will happen. It's supposed to. It goes against the natural order for things to be eternal. So don't think your sanity should be either. Mine sure as fuck isn't.**_

 _ **It's not about not breaking. It's about seeing the you that was being held within. Like a kinder egg. Only it's your Self.**_

She had spent _years_ with him. Drinking in his words. Swimming in his ideals. He was the Faceless One. The Hidden One. The Empty One. The one at the end of Nothing. He _was_ her hero. He _was_ her savior.

" _ **So don't you**_ _ **dare**_ _ **make fun of this book! He's not the best writer around and he even**_ _ **admits that**_ _ **but he writes like a person talks and he writes for us, he writes for**_ _ **me**_ _ **and he's a man who is trying to be a friend to the ones who don't feel like they have a future, the ones who are wandering around without any hope, the ones who want to just crawl into bed and chug a fucking bottle of asprin so they'll never wake up so go**_ _ **fuck yourself**_ _ **because he's the only friend I've**_ _ **got!**_ _ **"**_

He was her _best friend_.

When the armed men came, they came in steel and fire.

The nicest thing her mother had ever done for her…

" _Get out of here you little freak!"_

…She'd shoved her own daughter away from her, screaming in her face to _disappear_.

And disappear she did. Just as the ceiling fell and her mother was crushed by a falling casket.

She never would have imagined it. Never would have seen it coming. That when she was told by her crows that the **Great Destroyer** and **Living Nothing** were approaching her Uncle's home, that when she made a panicked decision to _**become sharp**_ and throw her _absolute terror_ at the thing she was told had been present when the mall was destroyed…

She never could have fathomed that she'd find herself in the arms of her **best friend**.

Crying ten years worth of pain into his chest.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 09 –** _ **Learning**_

In the end, since there was really very little to do other than write a check and sign some paperwork, Selh'teus, Alma and Mariko ended up sitting in the girl's room. Painted a calming sky blue, the young woman's room was not entirely cluttered as one would expect of an introvert. A few scattered clothes were quickly shoved into a closet, some papers picked up and placed on a dresser holding a floral purple lamp, and some candy wrappers chucked into a nearby trash bin.

She was a little embarrassed at the small mess but it was…well just a drop in the bucket compared to the bundle of nerves vibrating in her stomach.

"I'm not…I don't…"

"Have people over often?"

She shook her head. "I only just moved in a few weeks ago anyway so…I mean even then I…yeah."

She was, as she stated before, not the _best_ at being able to 'people'.

Thus…it was only a minor surprise when Alma offered to speak for her. Marie looked at her fellow black haired maiden, confused but also…thankful.

"You sure you can do that?"

Alma nodded to Seth's query. "Still don't know what it is or why but ever since the mists cleared in the Crystarium, I can touch people and not immediately get hit by their minds. I was able to do it with Katie pretty easily."

He shrugged.

So that was that. And gently taking Mariko's hand, Alma descended into a minor trance for a few moments. The surprising part was when her eyes snapped open and stared heavily at the woman in front of her.

"I…wow. So that's what it looks like from outside…"

 _ **Wot.**_

She shook her head. And then began.

"You…everything. _Everything_. You do for her…did for her…what you've been doing for me. Only, for _years_."

Mariko had been fourteen when she first read through _Knowing the Unknown_ and it was apparently the only thing that kept her from ending her life the first time around. His written word had spoken to her on a spiritual level, granting her a lifeline to…well, _living_ that she hadn't before.

Over the years, the repeated readings, the scoffs, the glares, the unwelcome glances, the isolation…it was only his book, his idea, his _concept_ that had kept her going, grounded and trying to bother making a life for herself. She absorbed every word, drunk in every sentence and made every lesson _her very being_.

She was shy and timid but had a strong sense of _justice_ and _fairness_ and knew her life, her mother, her very existence was _not right_ but couldn't do anything about it. She was alone, afraid, and uncertain. But she held on. She drew strength from his written word, drew confidence from his lessons that she performed and every time she _broke_ she clung to the image she'd formed of _him_ , her _best friend_ and repaired herself.

The only reason she didn't out and say all of that herself was because _she knew her limits_ and knew that as she was, she was too scrambled and shocked to get out what it was she really wanted to impart.

Alma, however, left out something very important. _That_ was something Mariko would have to say on her own.

"You are her savior. Her hero. Her guiding light in a sea of blankness. You are her _everything_."

 _Just like you are for me._

It was…humbling, in a way. To see how she saw him, in someone else.

Medea may call him _Master_ but she was a very strong, independent woman. She was confident, she was calm and collected. An ideal beauty of style and grace and _damn did she know how to make her scream_. But ultimately, Medea was _more_ than capable of standing on her own two feet, of her own volition and for her own goals.

What made Medea different from Alma, different from Mariko, was that she was not _desperate_ and _lost_. She was confused, yes. She was uncertain, yes. She was indeed, wandering without a map, so to speak. But she was firm. _Too_ firm, at times.

Where Alma and Mariko had broken repeatedly and savagely, Medea held strong. There was a single crack, a large one yes, but just the one, in her psyche.

And she had already begun taking the steps to repairing it.

Medea was _strong_. And it was in that strength that she understood she needed assistance. _That_ was the difference between them.

Medea could function perfectly well, without Seth in her life. She simply _chose not to_. She willingly allowed herself to be tied to him, as equals, partners. She sought him out for his skills, and in return, helped him refine his own, as well as gave him a sense of _belonging_ that he so desperately desired.

A sense that was reflected in both Alma and Mariko.

It was Medea's _choice_ to allow Seth to mean so much to her, to have such a claim on her. Alma, had no choice in the matter. Not that she was unwilling, but merely that the act of choosing was taken from her, like so much else in her life. She did not regret nor did she disdain such an event, she merely acknowledged that she did not make the choice on her own.

She'd never look back on that moment with unhappiness, however. Of all the thing she was denied choice in, _that_ would always be the one she wholeheartedly agreed with.

For Alma, Seth was a beacon of stability. Her whole, new life, now revolved around his. And she went with it more than willingly. He was her everything, as he filled, somehow, the holes in her psyche that she had been trying to plug up. But she stumbled upon him unknowingly. It wasn't an intentional act on either of their parts.

For Mariko…it _was_. He wrote that book specifically to reach out to people suffering, just like him. People lost and confused and wandering and _terrified_. A guide for the guideless, a path for the pathless. Not the _only_ path, _A_ path. His book, his words, fully encouraged the reader to _find their own Meaning_. To begin from Nothing, to consume, to compress, to complete, to _become Something_.

No matter what that something was.

And for Mariko, that book was her _bible_. His intention to speak to those who were without Voice, was caught and heard loud and clear. She grasp on to it as if her sanity depended on it and it _did_. If Alma's life was akin to a satellite in orbit around the World that was Seth, then Mariko was the Planet to his Sun.

It was buried in her heart, burrowed deep within. Her Meaning. Her _Truth_.

If it wasn't for his book, she would be dead. By her own two hands.

 _He_ was her Truth. That was what she had decided on _years_ ago. She was lonely, but as long as she had _him_ , she would never truly be _alone_.

Him appearing now? Showing up at her new house, only weeks after the death of her mother? That just _reinforced_ her belief.

And _what_ Belief it was.

Mariko was a broken, shaking mess.

But she was _strong_ in that. She was not strong in the sense of unbending. She was not strong in the sense of unbreaking. She wasn't even strong in the sense of being able to fight back.

Her _strength_ came from her _Belief_.

His words were as if Gospel to her. Ideas and ideals were as if scripture. She, who had been torn down without any identity, ready to perish a faceless shadow in the sea of humanity, _shaped herself_ around his written being. She idolized him, she immortalized him, she _deified_ him.

A God among Men.

All because he _actually tried to fucking help._

 _ **If you break, you break. If you fall, you fall. Don't worry about**_ _ **not**_ _ **doing it. Worry about learning from it.**_

And she _learned_. Good gods did she learn.

She should have been shattered. She should have been dead.

But because of _him_.

She was able to cling to that _annoying Disease called Hope._

She _hoped_.

She _Believed_.

She _**Prayed.**_

…and in the end?

Her prayers were answered.

"…shit."

* * *

It was a lot to take in.

But…as if Alma had been training for it…he was able to accept.

Honestly he wasn't intending _that_ kind of response when he spewed that shit from his head and heart. But…

But ultimately he'd done what he'd set out to do. It was just…a lot more than he'd thought.

"So…" He decided to just roll with it. "What's in the box?"

She blinked. Mariko turned to look in the direction he was pointing. It was a small trunk at the foot of her bed with a golden padlock on it.

Alma blinked rapidly as a burst of _**fearjoyterrorembarassmentwondersorrowworry**_ raced through her. She was still holding Mariko's hand, after all. Absently the psychic stroked the back of her fellow _obsessed_ 's hand with her thumb, trying to get the girl to relax.

"L-letters."

"Huh. Oka-

"To _you_."

He stopped.

 _ **What.**_

"Letters…to me?"

She nodded rapidly, cheeks flushing. Alma gave a soft chuckle at the feelings rushing through the woman. She felt like an embarrassed teenager.

"Trust me…" Alma broke in, grinning at the bird-speaker. "I feel that way _constantly_ around him."

"You mean the…star-struck, always embarrassed, wanting to fall in a pit and hide under a blanket of anti-light feeling?"

"Yep~" she said, popping the 'p'. "Started when I met him three weeks ago, hasn't really ended since."

"Can I ask what's in them?" he pushed, sliding past the exchange.

"Just…nothing…really. Word-vomit. I…"

She took a deep breath. "You said to get it out. So I got it out."

Strongest she'd sounded since the realization.

He nodded.

"And…"

Alma blinked. There was a _massive_ upsurge in fear and uncertainty that raced through her.

"And I need to get something else out too."

"Uhh?"

She gently removed her hand from Alma's, closing her eyes.

 _I…am a Feather on the Wind._

Her hands, trembling, reached for the top button on her shirt.

 _The clouds roll beneath my feet._

Slowly, but with silent focus, she trailed down, continuing to unfasten her top.

 _The twilit horizon spreads before my sight._

Taking multiple shaky breaths, she reached back, and through said top, unfastened the lace black bra she was wearing. She had originally been intending to go out to a nearby pizza place before Seth and Alma had arrived.

 _These pinions graze the Nothing._

Her head bowed, her body rigid. She shrugged her shoulders, bra straps sliding down into her top, which too was then lowered.

 _Spread out towards Infinity._

Her body tensed. Her neck muscles clenched. Her brow furrowed. And in one sharp breath.

 _ **O Wings of Blackened Faith.**_

A surge of pitch black quills herald the emergence and spreading of a pair of _pitch black feathered wings_ emerging from her back.

" _Fuck...me…"_

* * *

It had been a minute.

Both Alma and Seth were caught flatfooted by the display. A pair of large black wings just…grew from the woman's back. Her head was still bowed, her stance still rigid and tense. Mariko's hands were gripping the sleeves of her top tightly. Alma was blinking rapidly, _not_ expecting such a thing.

And then…something _odd_ happened.

" _ **Say it."**_

 _ **What?**_

" _ **Say it!"**_

 _ **Say-what? No!**_

A voice. Two voices. Ringing in her mind. One she recognized as Seth's own, the other…different. Male, but not _Anubis_.

" _ **Dude look at her."**_

 _ **I'm not saying-**_

" _ **LOOK AT HER!"**_

…

" _ **She's a nervous goddamn wreck and we all know it just say the fucking line!"**_

 _ **GAH For Fuck's Sake-FINE!**_

He coughed. She tensed further.

"So uhh…did you at least stick the landing?"

Both Alma and Mariko herself were confused. The winged woman's head lifted ever so slightly.

"…landing…?" came her voice. Small, weak, fearful.

"Uhh…yeah. Y'know…when you…fellfromheaven."

Silence.

" _ **Told you it'd work."**_

 _ **Fuck you and everything that looks like you.**_

" _God I love you."_

Those words were whispered with an almost _reverent_ sigh.

And then it seemed Mariko realized what she said, and both her hands flew up to her mouth as her eyes widened dramatically.

Also her wings seemed to twitch violently causing a ripple to go through the feathers like a cascading wave.

 _ **Wait what.**_

" _ **HAH!"**_

"See! It's not just me that does it! You can't say _shit_ anymore Seth!"

" _ **Bro there's fucking TWO of them now if you don't start pounding some pussy I'm going to be VERY PISSED WITH YOU!"**_

"Fuck my life…"

"Also!" Suddenly Alma whirled to Mariko.

"I have to say you have _magnificent_ breasts, sweetie."

Mariko looked at Alma, confused out of her wits for a moment, before she realized that in her reflexive haste to cover her mouth at her unexpected admission, she let her shirt and bra drop to the ground. Looking down at her exposed chest, she blinked as it settled in, and an embarrassed shriek _very_ similar to a bird's surprised squawk, emerged from her mouth as her wings quickly wrapped themselves around her torso with such speed that the trash can was knocked over from sheer wind gusts.

Seth just facepalmed, sighing heavily. He turned around but before he could get halfway-

"WAIT!"

He stopped. That was Mariko.

"I-its fine. I…" She squared her shoulders. "Things…are going really fast today so…so _fuck it_ I'll keep pace."

She took another deep breath, and spread her wings again.

"Seth." He didn't turn back.

"…please look at me _Sir._ "

Now _he_ was blinking.

' _ **Sir'?**_

" _ **TURN YOU IDIOT!"**_

He did so, getting a full view of a topless Mariko.

Alma had slipped behind the girl, putting a hand to her back, in support.

"It's…sooner than I'd intended but even Fate has to be obeyed sometimes."

… _ **She's getting more confident by the second.**_

Her arms were held to her sides, rigidly. Her chest in full display, her eyes shining with nervousness but a deep determination.

"I wasn't…I wasn't kidding when I said that."

"…that…?"

"That I love you."

Another, slow blink.

"I know…I know it seems stupid and sudden and random and really really out there but…" she shrugged, breasts rippling slightly with the motions. Seeing his eyes track them for a split second before returning to hers, had her cheeks burning but at the same time a small smirk forming on her face.

She had his attention, in more ways than one, and she knew it.

… _is this…what it feels like to be desired…?_

Deciding to roll with it, she pushed on.

"I spent…almost every waking day with you since I was fourteen. The two hours I've spent _actually_ with you pale in comparison but…nothing is different. You are _you_. I had a crush on you by fifteen-and-a-half, began properly writing to you at sixteen, and somewhere around nineteen I realized I'd fallen in love with an invisible man who's only contact I'd ever had with him was words on a page of a book that was written years prior."

Alma had begun rubbing the girl's back, silently willing her own strength to her. There was no psychic connection really. Nor an exchange or increase of power from one to the other. It was an emotional, silent support.

Only it was having some… _effects_.

Mariko's left hand twitched as something raced through her. Something _familiar_.

She licked her lips, feeling suddenly very _dry_ , before continuing.

"I'd been a freak for years. Hated by my mother and ignored by my peers. The wings were just the icing on the cake. She already thought me a freak for talking to birds and getting them to obey my requests. The teleporting just made her sniff at me more. The wings were the topper, and she stopped even trying to be in the same room as me for longer than she needed to. But the whole time, I had _you_. It was _you_ who got me through it all. Even though you didn't even have any idea I existed, you were there for me. Of _course_ I fell in love with you. You were my confidant, my listener, my guide, my _best and only friend_."

The presence of a hand on her spine, between her wings, had become _very_ noticeable. Along with the very… _warm_ feeling flooding through her. She could feel her muscles beginning to contract, her legs beginning to lose sensation. Oh she knew this pattern of impulses quite well.

"I _want_ you…to look at me. I've _always_ wanted you to look at me. I don't care if you look at me alone or look at me and others I just _want you to look at me_."

It wasn't fair.

He wasn't exactly in a relationship but…

She couldn't…hold it in any longer. It was probably all Alma's fault what with the back stroking and the burning feeling and the building of the pressure.

Of course, Alma, recognizing the shortness of breath, the glazed look, the constant whetting of the lips; decided to push it further. She leaned forward, to Seth's confusion, slipping her face next to Mariko's and whispered in the girl's ear.

" _You want him?"_

"Yes!"

Alma's blue eyes slowly bled into red, and they captured Seth's. It was here that she felt the flicker of concern shift into confusion and apprehension.

" _Then fucking_ _ **get**_ _him."_

And get she did. As if shot from a cannon, Mariko leapt forward, wings and arms outstretched. Reflexively Seth stepped back, fortifying his stance before catching the topless woman around the waist. And then very similar to the night Alma confronted him about his confused feelings of the situation between her and Medea, Mariko Kusumi captured his lips upon her own, throwing her full _being_ into him, squeezing him as close to her as she physically could.

All while Alma gave a soft smile.

 _I should be jealous. In another time I would be._

 _But…_

 _We're all a little broken._

 _She loves him, but doesn't feel worthy. I love him, but know I'm beyond damaged goods. Medea loves him, but is still trying to catch up._

 _None of us are really complete…and we may never be, on our own._

 _But together…_

 _I think maybe…_

 _Maybe we can finally make that Family I've been wanting…_

* * *

As she sat down on the seat of the bus to return home, Medea's vision swam. The world seemed to tilt in her view, the colors becoming washed out, before twisting and collapsing inward, like a spiraling river. Her head seemed to pulse, her eyes becoming unfocused.

And slowly, the sound of fluttering air.

Everything was dark.

Everything was oppressing.

Everything was smothering.

Yet like a flickering screen, a single image appeared before her eyes.

Six people.

The first was Seth. Sitting on what looked like a half-broken throne made of crystal. …no…no not broken. _Incomplete_. The chunk of jewel-turned-seat seemed as if it were caught in mid-build. Like someone or something was _forging_ it as he sat upon it, twisting and changing to better suit the one upon which it rest. Patterns of veins, strands of glittering light in mid shimmer, almost taking the shapes of small flowers, seemed to be carved into its surface.

His eyes were grey, a far difference from the dark chocolate brown she loved to gaze into. His hair, lengthened, yet lightly curled. Falling down to his shoulders in loose, stringy waves.

It was no longer black.

The exact color she couldn't pin down, but it looked like a dirty cloudy grey. Not of old age, but of something else. Yet at the same time…it held a strange hue to it.

Almost… _pink_.

To his left, Alma. A fierce grin on her face. Hair done in a ponytail, two long stranded clumps framing her face. She sat too, on a broken throne, only hers covered in flame patterns, wrapped in vines. Made of pale grey bark and twisting branched limbs. As if sewn into reality by the hands of one who wove in trees and their roots. Hers seemed more complete than his. It was strange.

To his right…Medea herself. A sharp smile being worn, as if she'd just found something unpleasantly victorious about an event or some such. She was a little alarmed to see the viciousness in her own eyes, the blue having faded greatly. Not dulled, but altered. It was paler, for certain. But not…as if loss or detachment. Her hair remained the same dark blue she favored, falling down her shoulders, almost like a cape.

Her own throne was made of polished steel. It was here that she could truly grasp that indeed, the thrones were incomplete, not broken. A strange, mist-like substance seemed to veil the edges, obscure the backing just behind her shoulders. Engraved along were strange patterns, almost thorn-like, chains with letters embedded upon them. The letters spelled no words nor held no meaning she could discern, but something within her gave her the feeling of the passage of _time_.

Roman numerals then, she concluded. The vision swam and the flicker of what looked like a ringed crest of three arrows seemed to embed itself upon the seat.

It was the third woman that confused her. A woman she'd never seen before. The way her emerald green eyes looked at Seth so… _reverently_ as if she worshipped the very ground he walked upon. She was slightly behind him, to the left, interspaced between Alma and Seth and she had…

She had large, black feathered wings, stretched behind her.

And of all things, a katana, strapped to her waist.

As well, for some reason she was wearing what appeared to be a black dress beneath a white, frilled apron. The dress top cut in a square shape, baring only the slightest hint of cleavage. The girl was definitely more… _fluffily_ endowed than herself or Alma. Her own were perky and springy, bouncing like drops of water from on high. Alma's being slightly larger and more tear-shaped. This girl's seemed to just sit snugly in the dress.

Her eyes lined with only the barest hint of darkness, her hair reaching only just past her chin, caught in mid-sway, the black locks seeming to be a different 'shade' than Alma's. Her posture, her stance, her very _being_ radiated _subservience_ , as if she were not merely content, but _overjoyed_ to be at someone's beck and call.

But that blade…that blade suggested something more. Not merely a servant, but a protector as well?

Medea did not miss the three matching collars on all three of them, herself included. She couldn't make out the designs, but a part of her felt… _intrigued_ by the sight.

Two more girls sat at his feet. Both of them with similar features. Both of them, had small, fuzzy cat ears atop their heads. Both of them, seemed to have feline tails at their sides, caught in mid-flick. But the differences came in their looks. The one on Seth's left, had stringy, almost ethereal pale hair. Her flesh was slightly darker, her lips given a gentle coating of pale sheen, wearing a strange closed jacket over a checkered skirt.

The right one, disinterested grey eyes around a cream colored face, black hair in a hime cut at just above the shoulders, the same length as Seth's, wearing a blood red jacket and blue kimono set.

The two looked, _felt_ familiar, as if she knew them.

But most importantly, was the feeling of…

Completion.

As if _finally_ , everything was in place.

The sight faded, but the sensation of _finally being home_ never left.

Any who happened to glance at her, would find themselves wondering what amazing thing the girl was thinking about, to have given her such a bright smile…

As a trail of tears, framed her face.


	11. Letters

_Dear Nothingness Ascendant,_

 _Hi. My name is Mariko Kusumi I'm sixteen years old and I'm a freak of nature._

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 10 -** _ **Letters**_

 _Dear Nothingness Ascendant,_

 _Hi again. Mariko here. Just wanted to say hello and thank you for writing your book its been…it saved my life._

She lay there, having decided to reread the book. Lying on her back, hair splayed out like a halo around her head, Alma held its pages above her, wishing she didn't have to use her arms. In reality she _didn't_ , she just as well, didn't know how to make it happen without risking shredding the book.

And possibly her ceiling.

It was as she had turned her head to grab the glass of water on her bedside table, that she jolted in surprise.

Once again, there was the Phantom Girl, standing right next to her.

 _ **Watch.**_

And just like last time, the loud rushing engulfed her ears, as her vision swam and changed.

* * *

 _Dear Nothingness Ascendant,_

 _Mariko again. I'm not becoming a bother am I? Please tell me if I am. Today was boring. Gym class is probably my least favorite thing to deal with but there it was. I think I'm getting better at basketball though…maybe. There's a guy in my class. He's…kinda cute. But I'm a freak so…and I'm terrified of talking to him so he wouldn't want anything to do with me anyway…_

" _ **For the love of FUCK! Why are you hesitating on this?!"**_

Once again she was treated to the sight of the inside of the Crystarium. Like last time the Phantom Girl pulled her here, Seth was sitting on a chair, facing someone. Only this time, it was _two_ someones.

The most recent speaker, being a tall, olive skinned woman with a fair bust and a narrow waist. Her arms and legs toned and solid, stomach showing a hint of definition. Her eyes were glowing a fierce amber, as her hair, orange like the setting sun, fluttered behind to her back. But most notably, was the pair of twitching fox ears atop her head, along with the flicking, bushy tail just beyond her legs.

" _ **I'm not. Not really…"**_

" _ **You actually totally are."**_

The second came from a man.

Taller than the girl, skin a rich chocolate brown, eyes a nearly glowing forest green. Hair dark as night pulled into a low ponytail that rest on his neck. Dressed in a green hued denim jacket which was wide open displaying his bare chest, muscles causing Alma to lick her lips unconsciously. He was sat upon a wooden chair turned 'round, resting his arms upon its back, chin on his arms. Legs clad in a pair of blue jeans, wrapped around the chair's back.

" _ **I…dammit…"**_

" _ **Maddy even told you about her vision. You have TWO of them now. Stop holding back and fuck them blind!"**_

" _ **Why are you pushing so hard for this?"**_

" _ **Why are you NOT?!"**_

" _ **She's got a point."**_

She heard Seth sigh heavily.

" _ **Listen…you're hesitating. There's no real reason for it. You're slowing things down for what? Some fake sense of normalcy?"**_

"…"

" _ **You have Dee's prophecy. Just go for it kiddo."**_

" _ **That's the problem. She**_ _ **saw**_ _ **it."**_

" _ **I don't get-**_

" _ **No, listen. She's not supposed to be able to do that."**_

"… _ **that's what you're worried about?"**_

" _ **You're right. I'm living the dream. Three beautiful women all wanting me at the same time? Knowing each other does and being alright with it? That's like, that's beyond impossible. But Medea saw something. And she saw something involving me. And that…"**_

" _ **Makes perfect sense if you think about it."**_

Suddenly, a fourth voice!

The air and vision changed, as now there was a fourth speaker present. He too had dark skin, though his looked pale and sunken. His hair, tight black curls matted to his head. Eyes were a deep ocean blue. Clothes were little more than a pair of swimming trunks. His seat, if you could call it that, was an inflatable ring, with him sat in the middle of it. He had a swimmer's body; lean muscles, defined but not bulging, a lithe build.

" _ **Chaos. Alright what do you mean?"**_

" _ **Medea is our Oracle, is she not?"**_

"… _ **yes."**_

" _ **And you trust her visions, do you not?"**_

"… _ **yes…"**_

" _ **Then why do you not trust this one?"**_

" _ **It doesn't-**_

" _ **Fit the pattern? But it does. You're just looking at the wrong pattern."**_

" _ **Elaborate."**_

" _ **Gladly. You see, the old pattern was that with your presence, anything she tried to see that involved you, was nothing but empty space. That was what made her fear you at first, and request your assistance after. That has continued to this day, only now she's suddenly able to have visions involving you."**_

" _ **We know that part already Aqualad, get to the point."**_

" _ **I'm getting there you insufferable fox wench. Listen. What has changed between then and now?"**_

"… _ **uhh…a lot?"**_

" _ **mmhmm? And what was the instigator of that change?"**_

"… _ **Alma."**_

" _ **Exactly. Alma. A self-proclaimed 'Dark Phoenix', backed by our own Oracle's visions of a world in which her power grew beyond her control and led to the end of humanity. An obscenely powerful psychic who on contact with you, suddenly became**_ _ **muffled**_ _ **."**_

"… _ **what are you getting at?"**_

" _ **Alma claims that in our headspace is an anchor, her tree. Since the appearance of that anchor, her powers have been far more controllable, far more focused, and at times, more refined. She was unable to touch people before us, and now she can."**_

" _ **What's that-**_

" _ **I'm getting there I'm getting there. Now, our dear Raven's friends classified you as the Living Empty. Something that is alien even to their senses. They can comprehend that you represent Nothing. The same Nothing that our Oracle would see whenever gazing towards your general direction. A Nothing that was impenetrable…until now."**_

" _ **You're saying Alma is related to that."**_

" _ **Precisely. Alma is the common thread between it all. If you are akin to the Nothing, and our Oracle is the one searching for you, she would find only Nothing. However, Alma is a powerful beacon. And she bypassed the Void and went straight to you."**_

"… _ **wait a second…"**_

" _ **I see you understand. Alma is the Something in the Nothing, allowing our Oracle to See you again."**_

" _ **You're saying that…due to the resonance frequency that Alma gives off, one that Medea has familiarity with…she's…effectively triangulating my position in Empty Space, by using Alma as a reference point?"**_

" _ **Indeed. If Alma is one who has proclaimed to never leave your side…"**_

" _ **Then…in conceptual terms, wherever Alma is, I shouldn't be far."**_

" _ **And you must bear in mind, that our dear Oracle, sees in**_ _ **absolutes**_ _ **. She sees only that which is the most likely occurrence at the given moment of her visions. It is you, who sees in possibility, by way of pattern recognition and discernment. If our Oracle has borne Witness to it, then it has already happened. Reality merely hasn't caught up yet."**_

"… _ **you think it'll work out that way?"**_

" _ **Oh dear. My dear Brother. Please, think about it. They all reinforce one another."**_

" _ **How so?"**_

" _ **Look at their powers, their mannerisms. Our Oracle and Raven claimed you as Master. Alma is Obsessed with you, while Raven is**_ _ **devoted.**_ _ **Both Alma and Raven wish to never not leave your side. Our Oracle and Alma both share capabilities of foresight. Raven and Alma both share capabilities of spatial relocation. Our Oracle was the Spark that relit Alma's flame, in a wave of shared passion. Alma and our Oracle both have discovered a mutual attraction to one another, while Raven has broken so many times she no longer has a defined shape. She is as become your shadow."**_

" _ **That…means…?"**_

" _ **Goddammit bro you could tell her to strip and spread her legs and she'd happily flop on a bed and let Maddy sit on her face while Alma fingerbangs her to the next lifetime!"**_

"… _ **that was needlessly graphic, Kira."**_

" _ **Needless my big ass!"**_

" _ **Effectively."**_

The one called 'Chaos', cut in.

" _ **Those three women have decided of their own volition…ok a little less so in Alma's case, but it still counts; that you are the one they seek. Raven is so damaged that she doesn't care**_ _ **who**_ _ **she has to share you with as long as she gets to be around you. Alma accepts that she has barged into your life without either of you intending it and is so badly wanting a**_ _ **family**_ _ **of her own that she will gladly grasp onto whoever you desire her to. And our Oracle has been with you so long she refuses to stop walking with you."**_

"…"

" _ **In other terms…those three are yours. And you are theirs. You could burn down an Orphanage and they wouldn't leave you."**_

" _ **How the fuck do you figure**_ _ **that**_ _ **waterboy?"**_

" _ **Its in their mannerisms. Our Oracle, holding the strongest morality, would likely try to talk you out of it but in the end relent and instead focus on the right Time to do it. Alma would happily set the fires. And Raven would quietly flutter the children out of the place, knowing that your goal was the end of the staff, if not the building itself."**_

"… _ **don't think about your reactions, just react?"**_

" _ **They all trust you for their own reasons, and while Raven is the newest, you know it won't be long until her devotion convinces you to trust in her. She's already loved you for years."**_

"… _ **absolute vision…huh?"**_

" _ **If it wasn't to be True, she would not See it, dear brother."**_

* * *

 _Dear N.A,_

 _You don't mind if I call you that do you? Please tell me if you do, I don't want to offend you. This week wasn't too bad. Mother wasn't glaring at me very much but maybe that's because I spent most of my time outside and away from the house. The crows don't like her. But she's my mother so…I don't know._

"So what do you think?"

" **He seems strange. Unnatural in being too natural."**

"You don't like him?"

" **He is confusing. We feel like not being around him, but also that we are welcome."**

" **Yes. Like a trap."**

"I see…"

" **You wish to mate with him."**

"Do I ever…"

" **We are many, but he is Infinite."**

" **If he hurts you, we will send our Legion."**

" **Yes. Like death."**

"Oh you guys…thank you."

* * *

 _Dear N.A,_

… _I have wings…_

"Wings."

"Yep."

"She has wings."

"Big ol' black ones."

"Master…have you found a Tengu?"

"Well…she _is_ half Japanese so…"

The sound of flesh meeting flesh. Both the same owner.

"Didn't you see that in your vision of us?"

Medea sighed. "I did. But I wasn't certain if what I was seeing was just…"

"Some kind of glitch?"

"Sure. We'll put it like that."

He chuckled while she mulled things over.

"Can she do anything with them?"

"Dunno yet. We didn't exactly get around to asking."

Another sigh.

"I want to meet her for myself."

"Don't trust your vision?"

"You said it yourself Master. Even if I can be certain I'm bypassing the Veil, its best to mind the Pattern."

He nodded, stroking her head as she lay next to him. "True, true…well the paperwork's filed and should be getting a call from Jake sometime soon so…next time I head over there? We'll pick her up and go somewhere."

Medea nodded into his chest. "We're gathering a few people aren't we?"

"It was just us for a good while."

"Indeed."

"You alright?"

"I need to see her for myself but…"

She looked at him, seeing again, that strange fluttering maroon cloth just flickering in and out of view.

"…yes I think I will be."

* * *

 _N.A,_

 _She hates me. I know she hates me. It's so obvious. I'm an idiot for trying to get her to care about me. Nobody cares about me._

… _only you do. I'm glad…I have you at least._

… _Please don't leave me…_

"Hey." Suddenly a voice spoke up from behind her.

"uaAAAAH!" ***CRASH***

"Bad time?"

"Marie! You alright?!" Jake yelled from downstairs.

"Y-yeah! I just tripped!"

"Hell of a trip if you ask me."

"S-shut uuup…you surprised me." Mariko whined.

"Sorry. So is it?"

"N-no…I just…wasn't expecting anyone."

Alma was sitting on the girl's bed, having just teleported into her room. A simple red tank-top under her favorite jacket, the tree-pendant resting upon her chest as always.

"Do you always have your wings out at home?"

"N-no? I just…it gets itchy."

" _Weird_." And that was saying something, considering Alma was capable of making people go _splat_ just by glaring.

"Y-yeah."

"So you doing anything?"

"Uhh…not really."

"Sweet. Wanna hang out?"

Mariko's eyes opened wide. Words she never thought she'd ever hear.

"Yeah!"

Alma just gave the woman a wide grin.

 _He's accepted you, little bird. Allowed you into his heart. It will be a while before he can say he loves you but…you keep doing what you're doing and he_ _ **will**_ _._

 _I know…how you feel. To be alone. To be cast aside by a parent. To be considered broken and without meaning._

 _You aren't much younger than I was…when they made that my Truth._

 _I promise._

 _ **I won't let it happen to you.**_

* * *

 _N.A,_

 _Oh my GOD I can't believe that asshole! That stupid sack of frigid shit thinks hes soooo good cause he's a fucking teacher and oh no he didn't ever have to go through years of his parents hating him cause suddenly he could talk to birds and could go through doors without needing fucking doors! How dare he! How dare he make fun of your book and say all that stupid shit about it?! Its not for him its for us its for me and I need it I need you I need you so much I'd be dead if it wasn't for you please please don't leave me alone._

 _I…I love you._

"So. You're Mariko."

She nodded, nervous. It was the first time meeting Medea, the one Seth called his Oracle. A girl that she was well aware of that shared a _very_ physical relationship with the man she'd long since fallen for.

"He tells me you have wings."

Trembling, Marie made to remove her top when suddenly a pale, well manicured hand held itself up, facing her flatly akin to a wall.

"No need. I believe him. I'm not here to make you uncomfortable."

"…then why."

"I wanted to see you for myself." Suddenly Medea sighed.

"Listen…you can relax. I have a lot of sway with him but even if I felt that way…I wouldn't be able to tell him not to be around you."

Marie blinked.

"He told me. Of a girl that years ago had organized an impromptu walkout of a certain _Literature Arts_ class because of the book he wrote. Of how she tore into her teacher for dismissing his words as foolish ravings of an uncultured imbecile. Of how she had claimed to cling to those very words as a lifeline. And how he _met_ that girl. And that she was exactly as she was before. You caught his _eye_. Strongly enough that he's Looking at you quite carefully. Perhaps it was your devotion for so many years, or maybe its just he has a thing for broken girls, I don't know. But he won't leave you unless you betray him."

"I would **never-**

Again, the hand.

"I am aware. He spoke to me of what you said, how you felt. What Alma translated for you. You would be effectively betraying yourself. And you've practically molded yourself after his lessons. Even I can see that."

"So why…"

"I am one of what he calls 'precogs'. I can see the future. In Definites. I've seen you, with us. I don't know what your capacity was or why or how but you were part of a very strong scene of myself, Alma, and him. Meaning at this current moment you are most likely going to be a recurring if not integral part of his – and therefore _our_ – life."

"…a critical juncture of localized temporal variance?"

Medea blinked. "…yes. Yes exactly."

"So you're saying my presence in your visions is a confirmation of my status amongst you."

"Almost. After…a certain event when I was younger I stopped putting _blind faith_ in my visions but…yes. As it stands it is as you said."

"Where was I?"

"Between him and Alma, a step back from the three of us."

"What was I wearing?"

"Some cross between a black dress and a maid outfit, a sword strapped to your waist."

"Accessories?"

"…we all had collars."

"Your thoughts?"

Medea shrugged. "I'm still learning how to…disassemble my visions."

Marie tilted her head. "You don't have any theories?"

"Only that the three of us will be very important to him. Are. Very important to him."

"Then that's all I care about."

Medea shook her head.

"You really _are_ like Alma…regardless, as soon as he's gotten the car, we're bringing you to his place."

Marie smiled, and in the back of Medea's mind, she realized just how much this all meant to the younger girl.

* * *

 _N.A,_

 _I've been doing my best. College…I know my mother wants me to go, so I can be out of the house more but…_

 _I can't handle the crowds. I'm not…I've never really been_ _ **interested**_ _in school. I just went cause I had to._

 _I…_

… _I want to serve you._

 _I'm pretty good at cleaning. Have to be, with my wings and all. The feathers sometimes get everywhere._

 _And I'm good at cooking! And I don't take up much space so I could be…in a small room or something…_

 _I…just want to be useful. To you. You've done so much for me._

 _So…please…_

 _I love you._

"You're gonna what?"

"I'm going to move in with them."

It was just Mariko and her Uncle, that night. Sitting across from each other at a table in the kitchen, Chinese food containers half opened and to the side.

"Marie, it's been like, a week."

"I know but…I've known him for much longer."

"It was a _book_."

She shook her head. "It was _him_. I know its hard to believe but…the way he wrote it is the way he talks. Its just…who he is."

"What like some kind of Hocrux or something?"

She snorted. Her Uncle was a closet fantasy nerd, and had read the Harry Potter series from cover to cover at least three times.

"Honestly with what he said he intended for it? I wouldn't be surprised if he'd managed somehow to lace pieces of his consciousness into his words."

"Marie…"

"I know its sudden and I know its unexpected but…he's good for it. He made a damn fallen angel joke when he saw my wings and didn't reject me when I told him I loved him and-

" _Love_ what-

"Its true. I…I needed to be around him for it to really click but…I've loved him for years. And yes, I know, I loved the _idea_ of him but the idea and the real thing ended up lining up perfectly."

"…moving in with someone is a really big deal though."

"I'll be fine. I…"

She bowed her head.

"You…were the first one to not _reject_ me outright. And that meant a lot. That made…mother dying so much…easier. But…she was your sister. Around here I still get reminders of her. Not from you yourself but…"

"The blood relation."

She nodded.

"With him…he's so far been nothing _but_ supportive. In his book, and in reality. It's…refreshing. I…I need a new start. A brand new start."

"And you think he can give it to you?"

"I know _they_ can give it to me. I've met his partner Medea. She's a precog. Very sharp. Very strong…I want…I want to be like her."

"I thought you wanted to be like _him_."

"Oh I do! But…I want her _confidence_. Her _strength_. And being around him is how I can get it. And…"

"And you love him."

"Yes. And Alma is so much like me it's not even funny. We both tend to just…word-vomit and we're both awkward as hell around most other people but…she's funny. And I've realized _I'm_ funny, by being around her. She's like…like the sister I never had."

"You're sure about this?"

"Absolutely. He owns the house he lives in so nobody can bitch about it but ourselves. And…and his cats are alright with me."

"Why wouldn't they-oh right, the bird thing."

She nodded. "It's so weird…Alma like…pulled me into some mashup of our minds and his one cat, Shiki, thought I was prey and I guess in a sense I am but Alma convinced her that I was His and she demanded a single occasional tribute of one of my crows to play with and Yurine just said as long as I'm His then I'm hers and that her tribute was some of my feathers and a new container of cat nip and it was weird but they felt _strong_ and…and I'm doing it again."

"Yeah you are."

She just smiled sheepishly.

"But this is the most I've seen you smile since you moved in. Alright kid…you have me convinced. Do you need help moving in?"

"No…I didn't bring much with me here and…and Alma and I can just teleport the smaller things and Seth's car will be enough for a couple suitcases. Medea said she wants to take me out shopping for some dresses she thinks I'll like."

"Never thought you much of a dress woman."

"I'm not…not usually. But…y'know."

No. No he didn't. And he didn't want to.

But she did. And the flushing of her cheeks said all it needed to.

* * *

 _N.A,_

 _I need to get out of this place. Away. Away from her. To somewhere. Anywhere. Damn the fucking borders._

 _I can fly. I found that out a few days ago. It's…incredible. Tiring though. I don't understand how it works but it involves my wings. It was beautiful to see the world from up high. I didn't even feel the cold. I want to take you with me one day._

 _But…I want to leave. To go somewhere else. I can't though. Too many laws and shit._

 _Come fly with me._

 _I love you._

"She can fly."

"Yes. I can see that."

"Did you know she could fly?"

"Nope."

"How the hell did I miss that?! She can _fly_!"

"Weren't you looking specifically for information on her feelings for me?"

"I…huh. Yeah. Yeah I was."

Seth shrugged, watching the winged girl come down for a landing.

"Then it makes sense you missed it. You were looking for something specific, thus missed information about _this_."

"I think I'm getting too used to you."

He shrugged absently, understanding what she meant.

"So…what did you think?"

Seth blinked. And then sighed. "In the interest of being completely honest…I'm pissed. And jealous. And annoyed. And also a very slight bit happy? My brain is stupid."

Mariko frowned worriedly. Alma, letting herself partially dive, tried to drink in his emotions to attempt to translate.

"He's…pissed and jealous and annoyed because-

" _I_ want to fly dammit." He grumbled. "Been a dream of mine since I was a kid. Coast the skies unaided, complete control and freedom."

Alma nodded. "Teleporting is one thing. It's not so much a…"

"It's not the arrival." He sighed out.

She nodded again. "It's the journey. The feeling of suspension."

He shook his head. "I can lift shit, I can slow my own descent, I can push myself at moderately high speeds in single bursts to cover ground quickly. I can _technically_ glide through Talisman Math. But I've never been able to fly and have been honestly too damn _chicken_ to try properly."

He'd been wondering for years. How could he make himself fly? He could barely lift himself. His powers seemed to have a strange effect when used on himself, as in, they barely worked. Indirect things could affect him. Reactions of forces could affect him. But for some reason, trying to use his own powers on himself just…it's like everything became garbled and junk.

Marie bowed her head. "Do you not want me to fly around you then, sir?"

His head snapped up. "The fu- NO! I'm not _that_ big of an asshole. Fly all you want just expect me to be bitchy about it for a bit."

"It's really no problem, I don't need to-

" _Raven_."

She snapped to attention. He sighed.

"Who are you."

"I am Nobody."

"Where are you."

"I am Nowhere."

"What are you."

"I am Nothing."

It was actually a little disturbing to him, how quickly and… _wistfully_ the younger woman spoke that mantra. It was truly beginning to sink in that _he_ and his _silly little book_ were actually the only things she had in her life to rely on for the longest time. As if saying those words, _finally_ saying those words to him, was some…crowning achievement of her very existence.

"You will fly. And you will become the _best_ flier. I will not let you inconvenience yourself by cutting a skill of yours just because of my own shortcomings dammit. Take the skies, woman."

She smiled brilliantly at him.

"Yes Sir."

* * *

 _N.A,_

 _My mother died last week. Some kind of terrorist attack on the mall we were at. It was my birthday. She'd…taken me out for the first time in a while. She…_

 _She called me a freak. She pushed me a way and called me a freak and demanded I leave._

 _And then she died._

 _She probably saved my life…_

 _Or…knowing her, she pushed me out of the way so she could die and not have to look at me anymore._

 _I'm living with my Uncle now. Her brother. He's…nice. I showed him my wings._

 _He…he made the_ _ **worst**_ _joke._

 _Asked if I shed enough feathers to make a pillow._

 _It…it was terrible. But it made me laugh._

 _I needed to laugh._

 _I love you._

"You sure you wanna live up there?"

Mariko nodded rapidly. "Oh yes. It's very spacious in your attic, and that one big window can be a nice spot to slip in and out of if I need to."

"Just remember mosquits are a thing."

"I do. And I will."

"High places, huh?"

He was referring to her preference to be in elevated spaces. The higher off the ground the better she felt.

"I don't know if it's a side effect of my wings or just my personal preference, honestly."

Seth just shrugged. "We've gotta go shopping soon so we'll grab you a mask and some gloves and I think I have a pair of goggles around here somewhere."

She had taken a brief look up into the attic where she was going to move into. It was indeed, quite large a space, but it was very dusty and not well maintained. The roof wasn't going to cave in any time soon but there were definite signs of wear and the passage of time.

Seth refused to go up into it, citing a terror of spiders and a lack of want to know what might have made it their home. He was happy to arm her with whatever tools she desired to clean it out, and gave her blanket permission to claim any hidden jewelry or money as her own.

Everything else was fair game to toss. He didn't know what was up there, nor did he want to. He'd offered her the spare room, but she declined, stating that the attic would be fine.

"I'm going to be your maid aren't I? I've only kept my own room clean so far, I need to push myself, sir."

That was another thing. She had taken to calling him 'sir'. Despite him trying to emphasize that he was her _best friend_ not her controller, she bypassed that by countering with the notion that she was going to be his live-in maid, in exchange for giving her a fresh start.

" _I owe you for at least four years of time. I want to pay you back properly."_

He tried to argue but Alma overrode him. It was apparently what lay in her deepest thoughts, the wish and drive not just to meet him, but to give back to him all the things he gave her.

Even though he didn't know her when she was receiving them.

"At this rate I should start calling you _Ankh._ "

"Well…I suppose it helps my favorite combo _was_ **TaJaDor**."

" **PuTo** _ **Tyrranno**_ **SA-** _ **ruuuuus~**_ "

She just giggled while Alma blinked in confusion, not really understanding what either of them were on about.

"Get you that space cleaned up and we'll catch her up?"

Marie smiled brightly. "Oh yes! Gladly, sir!"

* * *

 _Dear Seth,_

 _I've met you finally. You are…you're everything I imagined and then some. You truly earned the title Medea gave you._

 _My best friend. My Master. My Lord._

 _You've given me the greatest times of my life. You gave me the chance to survive, to hold out until a time as such that I could live._

 _You accepted me and my strange ways. You embraced me and my wings._

 _You made me feel like I mattered. And then you went and doubled up on it._

 _What am I going to do with you, sir? You've given me much more than I could have ever asked for._

 _You've given me friends. You've given me family. You've given me a home._

 _And now I'm living with you. My greatest dream come true._

 _I don't care that I have to share you with others. I don't care that I'm not the only girl in your life._

 _You mean too much to me, to worry about silly things like that._

 _As long as I can stand beside you…in some way…I'll be happy._

 _No._

 _I_ _ **am**_ _happy._

 _My name is Mariko Ann Kusumi. And I am a freak of nature._

 _Thank you, sir._

 _For allowing me to join the Great Nothing that is your life._


	12. Linkage

"What's wrong, Maddy?"

 **(BGM: NieR Automata – Wretched Weaponry ~ Medium-Dynamic)**

They were laying together once again.

It was a few days after Marie had finished cleaning the attic where she would be moving into. The next day was going to be when she would be bringing her things over. Alma had been practicing teleporting with larger and larger items in the interim, with the intention of just warping Mariko's old mattress directly into her new living space.

With it cleaned out of any dust and webbing and other manner of disgusting filth, Seth now had no qualms about going up there to help out.

Spiders are his greatest weakness, and it was due to a combination of both not wanting to freak out, and not wanting to see what would happen to Alma when his mind inevitably shut down from it, that kept him from assisting.

But this night, Medea and Seth lay together, naked as usual, but for once _not_ after a night of sex. She had been… _off_ all day, and her physical tells were saying that something was bothering her. She did well in hiding it from the others, and partially from Seth himself, but you don't spend years _loving_ a person the way they did each other (even if at the time that was not the word either of them would use to describe it) without picking up a few things.

Assuming you were the type to pay attention, at least.

"I…am uncertain."

"About?"

She shrugged. "…us."

He blinked. "Us as in…the four of us or…you and me?"

"…the latter."

"Did you not see our Future?"

She frowned, lips becoming a narrow line, as she remained silent.

"…babe?"

"…I did. I just…I don't know."

He sat up a little straighter. Her shoulders were hunched, her face obscured by her hair. Alma he was not, but he'd spent years with this woman.

She was actually _legitimately_ worried.

"Did something change in your vision?"

She shook her head. "No…there has been no change. It hasn't come back."

Okay so that meant that there wasn't any update to it that would alter anything.

"I'm…drawing a blank here hun."

"…I saw the outcome. I just…I…"

Outcome. She was focusing on the end result.

"You don't believe it?"

"…I don't know."

That was the issue then. She was uncertain for some reason. Oh. No. Not for _some_ reason…

"…you don't know…if you believe in it or not?"

She hesitated…and then nodded.

"You saw it though. Strongly."

"I did. But...you…you taught me to look for the Path. Not merely the Goal."

And there was the problem.

"You can't see how we get there and you're not sure if its Real or just a fabrication of…what? Our desire?"

She frowned again. "Why haven't you done anything with Alma yet?"

Ok that was a sudden subject change. And very unusual for her to have done so.

"I…"

"Is she not attractive enough? She _is_ quite eager for you to do so."

"It's not…it's not anything to do with if she _looks_ good enough or anything."

"Then why haven't you? She's been wanting you to since the day you met."

Wow she was really focused on this wasn't she?

He just looked at Medea. Confused. Worried, but honestly pondering. Both why she'd be bringing this up, as well as why he truly hasn't acquiesced to Alma's desires. It was true, its not like she was undesirable or anything. It was…

"…I don't know. It's not like I don't want to."

"You could tell her to bend over and she'd do so happily in the middle of a crowded bus. You could take her anywhere at any time and she'd just gladly ride you into unconsciousness."

The statement was spoken in a clipped tone but wasn't an untruth.

"…maybe that's the problem?"

She looked at him sharply.

"She's willing. Eager. I get that. I _like_ that."

"You could have the kind of sex with her that you can't with me."

Ehh? Oh.

"Yes…yes I could…"

Okay time to see where she's going with this.

"So why _don't_ you?"

"…because you're unhappy."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I-

"You're uncertain. You're worried. You're _unhappy_. You're not okay with this."

"I'm not _not_ Okay with it!" she practically yelled. "I'm _fine_ with it that's the problem! I've seen our future I've seen how _happy_ we all look I just have _no idea how we get there_ and that's-

"What's bothering you."

She quieted. "…yes. I don't know how we reach that point and because I don't know I'm-

"Medea."

She stiffened. Did she do something wrong?

"Up."

She looked at him. He was motioning with a single finger. The sheet spilled to her lap as she got to her knees.

"Over here."

She was actually worried. He'd sat up straight. Was looking at her…sharply. She couldn't tell if he was annoyed with her or not and that…actually worried her. It wasn't a feeling she enjoyed in the slightest. Hell she never knew until this very moment that his…very posture could unsettle her like this.

She hadn't felt this unnerved by him since before he saved her life.

She obeyed. Because her instincts were screaming at her that if she didn't, there would be problems. She climbed atop his lap, straddling his waist.

And was suddenly lurched towards him as he bucked his hips once, throwing her off balance.

…before he wrapped his arms around her, gently placing his chin atop her head.

"You're being stupid."

She blinked, silent.

"You saw it. You saw it and you see things that _are_. You saw what _is_. Meaning we're already on the path to that future. You're right to worry about the path but you're wrong in how you're focusing too much on it. You're trying to _see_ beyond yourself too hard."

"I just-

"You _aren't_ okay with this. Accept that."

"…I don't want to screw this up for you."

He sighed. "Maddy…honey its not just _me_."

Her head lifted slightly, she was confused.

"Marie…Raven, she's _content_. She's where she wants to be. She has modeled herself after me. What makes me happy makes her happy because she's _here_ with _me_. I could slap her in the face and she'd just bow her head and apologize for hurting my hand. I could be in the middle of doing my damn taxes and she would happily slip underneath my desk and suck me off to de-stress. I could ask her to spread her legs in the middle of a crowded room and she'd hop on a table and lay back. What I want…my will is her will. That is the life she's chosen. She's _where she wishes to be because she wishes to be nowhere else_."

Medea nodded. Mariko was…she had _happily_ given up her freedoms to be by his side. It worried her a little honestly. And from the sounds of it, it bothered him as well.

…but that was her _choice_. That was Mariko's desire. That was _life_ as she felt it was worth living.

"Marie is happy with me just giving her a smile and a pat on the head. All I have to do is acknowledge her and she's over the damn moon."

It was true. He was her _everything_.

"Alma…I could slap _Alma_ in the face and she'd backhand me right back. We could fight each other, scream at each other, rage at each other and in the end have the most _destructive_ violent hate-filled _passionate_ sex. She has clung to me since day one because apparently I'm the thing keeping her powers stable. I'm the thing keeping _her_ stable. She wants a family. She wants _friends_ she wants a place to belong to be acknowledged and happy. And she's _getting_ that. But she knows she wants those things extremely badly and she's trying not to push it."

That was true as well.

"She wants me to plow her into unconsciousness and fill her up till she can't walk straight. She wants my babies. _All_ of them. She wants _me_. She wants to be _loved_ and _wanted_ and _cared for_ the way she never was. She will _wait_ until I decide to take her and when I do that's when she knows _it's fucking on._ "

Again, true. Despite her past, Alma was being incredibly patient. She…wants to do it _right_. After so long of everything in her life going wrong, though she wants to race forward, she's holding herself back.

…but once that changes, then the gates are opened and they _will not close_ again.

"And then there's you."

Yes…her. The proble-

"My number one."

…what?

"My _student_. My **Oracle**. The first and for the longest time the _only_."

What was this all of a sudden?

"Without you there would be no _them_. Without you there would be no _us_. You _saw_ our future. A future where we're all collectively happy. Tell me, what was the most notable thing of that vision?"

"…the thrones?"

"No, _silly_. The **collars**."

She blinked. _That's_ what he was focusing on?

"A _choker_ here and there is style choice. You like them for the aesthetic. A _collar_ signifies ownership. A bond. A connection. Medea, who, out of all of you, would be most likely to wear a _collar_?"

"Alma."

He shook his head. " _Raven_."

Ah…yeah…yeah that was actually more likely.

"Do you know why?"

"…obedience. She is yours and yours alone. You are her…"

She went still.

"Her Master, yes. Of a different _meaning_ than with you. You are being taught by me. But she wishes to be _owned_ by me."

So then why…

"Do you know what it means that _all three of you_ were wearing collars?"

"…you…owned us all?"

"Perhaps."

Perhaps?! The fuck?

"Let me give you _my_ take on it."

She nodded.

"You all, _owned each other_."

She blinked. What?

"That future, is basically us in a damn harem ending, right?"

Nod.

"It works in games and anime because all the people in the harem basically lock their sights on the one guy or girl and then spend all their focus on that person. Its written that way. They have conflicts they have differences but their focus is like a laser. They just _ignore_ everything else."

Another nod. It was really a terrible trope.

"You know how it works in _reality_?"

She shakes her head. It doesn't.

"Mutual _trust_."

Blink.

"It's not just about the all for the one. It's about the one for the all. All of the components have to be able to work together, have to _want_ to work together, for things to work out. The three of you wearing collars, to me, says that the three of you are _on the same page_."

"…how…?"

"Marie would wear the collar because she wants to be my servant, my shadow. Alma would wear the collar as a sign of having her desires acknowledged. She is mine, because she found one to Look at her. Why would _you_ wear that collar?"

"…I…I don't…I…"

"You _wouldn't_."

She shuddered. Why did that make her want to cry?

He just held her tighter.

"You are strong. You are proud. You are independent. You are capable of standing on your own two feet and only need me around on occasion to keep you from overdoing it or fretting too much about something. You are, out of all of us, the most stable. You don't _need_ to be owned. You don't _want_ to be owned."

He wasn't wrong.

"You submit only to my greater knowledge. That is the basis of our relationship. We are _equals_ in that. So why, would the you in that future be _collared_? Why would you be wearing a sign of _subservience_?"

"…because I messed up."

" _No_ you fool. Because you _chose_ to."

But why would she choose to if she has no desire to?

"And that's where the question comes in. What would lead you to _choosing_ to wear a sign of obedience? A sign that says that someone _else_ directs your life?"

"…I don't know…"

"Because we aren't _there_ yet, babe."

She nods.

"I'm going to give you a suggestion."

She looked at him.

"Take Marie."

"Where…?"

"No. _Take_ her. The way you did Alma."

She blinked, eyes narrowing.

"You want to watch me bury my face in between her legs? To see me knuckle deep in-

"Medea."

Her mouth snapped shut.

"Not for me. For _you_."

What does _that_ mean?

"Your relationship with Alma improved dramatically when she revealed that she was turned on by you. You took control, guided her, and let _go_. You two shared something that she never shared with anyone else."

"You could have-

"Yes I _could_ have. I _can_. But I _haven't_. Not yet. You beat me to it. And I'll admit. It messed me up a bit. I wasn't sure how to feel about it…because I felt the same way _you_ do now."

"And I told you, you were…"

She stopped, realizing what she was about to say.

Also because he was giving her the most _annoying_ shit-eating grin.

"yuh-huh?"

"Fuck off…" she growled.

The grin just widened. Her cheeks flushed. _Idiot._

"That future, sweetie…it comes about because everyone is on the same page. Because the _three of you_ share something _with each other_."

"How are you so certain?"

"Because. My number one. My Oracle. My **Medea** , only sees what _is_."

And that was the crux of the matter. He could do what she no longer could.

He believed.

"…not an _Order_?"

He shook his head. "Can't frame it as such when I know its not something you're waffling over. Wouldn't abide the terms."

She nodded softly. He was right. The conditions for him _commanding_ her were very strict. And this…didn't yet fall under that contract.

"Why?"

"She needs it. You need it. Either to establish dominance or to just clear the air. We have to be _equals_ in all things, for it to work. Maybe it's not the best way. Maybe it's not the _right_ way. But it's _a_ way. And right now it's the best idea I've got. We're all imbalanced. I've only _claimed_ you and even that claim is faulty because you are not one looking to be _claimed_. You and Alma shared a mutual claiming, and I haven't done anything of the sort with Alma nor Marie."

"…and I'm the one with doubts…so by doing this I would at least anchor things properly that I and the other two are on the same level with one another."

"A single word from me and those two will be sixty-nineing on the damn living room floor. Happily. Waiting for me to join in. It's a non-issue. Alma'd do it because she's eternally horny, and Marie would do it because I asked. And then she'd probably realize she enjoyed it on her own."

Medea's eyes narrowed. "how do you know that for certain?"

"She's my shadow, remember? She's broken beyond repair. So she's cast aside the parts that are useless and modeled herself after me. She wants _someone_ to love her. Just like Alma does. I've accepted her, taken her in and acknowledged the connection but I haven't claimed her as _mine_ properly yet. Like Alma, that's what she _wants_. Unlike Alma, she's _content_ even if that never happens."

"Ever the loyal servant?"

He nods. "Even if she might desire more, she's where she wants to be, and will be happy enough with what she now has."

"Her Want is strong…but it's Formed…thus able to be controlled?"

"Exactly. Alma's is more powerful and she's struggling to control it. But you've shown that she _can_ if she needs, go to you, not just me, if she has problems."

"And…you're saying you want that for Marie as well."

" _Balance_ , love. For that future to be a thing, we have to be balanced. Not just about me and then the three of you. _All_ of us."

"You weren't wearing a collar though."

"Yeah…I'm still trying to figure that part out. Maybe as the controller I don't get a collar? Hmm…"

She shook her head.

"I…I don't think that matters. If…if what you're saying is accurate then…"

Then it's up to her.

…his number one…?

The one he trusts above all others. The one he looks to for assistance.

…the one he cherished _first_.

His oracle. _His_ Oracle. _His._

…the only one he's _claimed_.

Until such a time that _she_ is ready…?

"I think…I understand now…"

"What are you going to do?"

"…I'm not sure yet. But…"

"Get to know them better. Both of them. In and out of the sack. Just _be_ around them. That future will come. It just takes _time_."

She nods absently. Mind aflutter.

Time…huh?

She let her body go. Relaxed in his arms.

If it was going to work…if that future was going to come about…

But that was the problem…

Even if she did get on the same page as the other two women…

…she still had doubts.

They could cast aside their worries and fears and just believe in him.

…he'd never steered her wrong.

…but _he_ was the reason why…why she didn't just _believe_ anymore…

"…I'm sorry."

He kissed the top of her head.

"Don't be. Not yet. We've got plenty of time, Maddy."

She just clutched him tighter.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 11 -** _ **Linkage**_

The following week was lived by taking his suggestion to heart. The immediate next day, before Medea left for her classes, Alma surprised her by suddenly teleporting in as she was getting dressed, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her soundly.

" _I need you, ok? Maybe not as much as I need him but he needs you and I need him so I need you and I'm alright with that. You're_ _ **fucking hot**_ _and you're strong and amazing and both Marie and I wish we were able to be as level-headed as you are. You're an amazing, beautiful,_ _ **wonderful**_ _woman and we're all blessed you're a part of our lives."_

" _What-_

" _I heard everything. Sorry."_

" _Oh…I see."_

" _He's right. Just take your time. You were here first. We've already shared a thing and I can tell you flat out from that that I'm alright with saying that I love you. Yes, most of it is because_ _ **he**_ _does but I've had time with you myself and honestly outside of him you're my_ _ **best friend**_ _. Hell you're the first female friend I've ever had."_

" _Right. I…forgot about that."_

" _It's easy to. I try to all the time. But listen…he's right about it all. We_ _ **do**_ _need to get to know each other. All of us. This situation is crazy but we can easily make it work. So spend some time with Marie when you can and then some time next week we'll all go out somewhere. We can even grab Katie."_

" _I…well…I suppose we_ _ **do**_ _need to see what kind of dresses Marie would like…"_

During the week, Marie would be easily found making breakfast for the quartet while Alma and Medea did their morning DDR workouts. She would join Alma every other day in training their mutual teleportation skills, and Alma would practice her fire. She still couldn't figure out yet how her Force was to work but Seth had told her to just relax and focus on the flames.

" _We know what causes it to happen, stress. But that's reflex. To train it, we'll need to find your trigger. But getting frustrated won't help. So lets perfect what you_ _ **can**_ _do."_

Marie would gather the feathers left behind from her teleports and Alma would sometimes use them as target practice. Medea would join in with Alma's meditations, helping train the girl to tune out mental feedback of being close to someone else. As the week went on, the weather got hotter, and the three of them began the difficult task of teaching Alma how to swim.

Difficult, because she subconsciously would start freaking out once her head was under water for longer than two seconds.

It kept reminding her of the bubble.

As well, near the end of that week, Selh'teus had received a call from Jake about a demolition job. Jake's company was about to finalize a contract on tearing down the remains of the Unity Station Shopping Center to start rebuilding. Having prior experience with Seth's ability to make such jobs much safer just by being on-site, Jake was prepared to call him in as an external 'safety consultant.' A broad enough but official sounding title that would effectively let Seth use his powers to make it a little less dangerous to do their jobs.

Jake had an ulterior motive however. It was also to pay Seth for taking in Mariko. Her mother's funeral was scheduled for a week after, and Marie had said very little about it. Whether because she didn't want to think of her mother being dead, or if she simply didn't want the bitch's blatant hatred of her to bring down her good mood, was unknown. But after that, everything her mother owned was going to him, and he was planning on liquidating all possible assets for simple cash. Most of which he wanted to give to Marie herself…quietly.

As the week drew to a close, Seth and Jake ironed out some details between them. Seth wouldn't let Marie know what her Uncle was planning, as it was to be both a gift and an apology for not paying attention to his sister's stupidity and trying to put a stop to it in his capacity as family. Maybe there wasn't much he could have done, but he could have tried.

It wasn't like he had his own kids anyway.

It would be the first day of the job, that the girls ended up scheduling their day out.

…and what a day it was going to be.

* * *

"So you can set things on fire now? Wow you must be a hit at barbecues."

Marie giggled at Katie's sarcastic statement, while Medea gave a soft snort, a gentle grin on her face. Alma, however, gave a queer look to the ginger-haired woman before blinking and tilting her head, mind racing a mile a minute.

"…that…would actually be an interesting training exercise…" she absently mumbled, thinking of the implications.

"Wait what?"

"No seriously think about it. It would be good at training my control over the intensity of my flames. Shoot. I need to write this down."

As Alma whipped out her phone to activate the note-taking function, Katie just blinked and shook her head. "I'm being a literal ass and she takes it as advice…and I thought _I_ was weird."

"I think you and Medea are honestly the most normal of all of us here." Marie spoke up, cheerfully.

"That's very disturbing to think."

Medea just shrugged. She'd been…quiet, most of the time. Not somber, and definitely not morose. But just quietly enjoying the company, taking in the conversation – which was mostly dominated by Alma and Katie – and the people she was with.

Seth was right. She needed a day out with friends. A day to just not be thinking of all the heavy junk in her life.

She enjoyed, greatly, his company, but even he would admit that sometimes heavy topics couldn't _not_ be breeched around him. Even if his own personal style of conversation was to inject anecdotes and random associative humor into it.

She gave a gentle, happy sigh, and pushed on.

"We're here." She spoke.

" _Here_?" Marie queried, incredulously.

"Yes, yes I know it's a little on the pricey side but that's why we're footing the bill this time. You still intend on being his- _our_ Maid, right?"

"Yes." Spoken without hesitation, and a hint of pride.

"Then while a stereotypical maid outfit would likely be fair enough, I am aware that you would sometimes like to dress more appealing towards him, correct?"

Marie looked away, silently.

"You _can_ say yes you know."

"I…yeah…"

Medea nodded sharply, but not unhappily, at that.

"Therefore, it would be best to see what style you would like. A few of my classmates are taking fashion design as a major, and I may or may not have informed them of a girl with a need for nice looking dresses made out of a durable but gentle fabric that can be worn and washed for cleaning duty."

Marie's head snapped to Medea, surprise on her face.

"You've been accepted by him, Mariko. Even if neither of us truly understands your need to be his servant, we acknowledge it. He wants you to be comfortable in your chosen role."

"…and you?"

"Well…I haven't been given reason enough to walk away in two years. No point in looking for one now."

It wasn't the most ringing endorsement, but at the moment, Medea knew her conflicting feelings would not let her tell anything but the truth. So she didn't bother. She told Marie, _a_ truth.

Besides, today was meant to be a day of relaxation and fun.

"That said, I'm not _expecting_ you to pick anything out. Just mostly trying on designs. We need to account for your wings, after all."

It would be a little while, before Medea would come to learn exactly _what that meant_ to poor Marie.

* * *

"Hey there, pretty boy."

His body stiffened for a second. The voice, low and breathy, whispered into his right ear, an instant before a pair of arms wrapped around his torso, and a _very_ noticeable something else, pressed onto his upper back.

"SHIifcuking hell woman don't do that."

A low chuckle and a tighter squeeze.

"What's the matter, didn't miss me?"

Seth rolled his eyes squirming to turn himself around – which he did – to face the owner of the voice.

"How could _anyone_ not miss a bombshell like you, Aranea?"

This time the chuckle was louder and followed by a kiss to the cheek.

"Keep that up and I might have to take you up on that unspoken offer."

"Gotta get past my Oracle first, 'Nea."

She grinned, waving him off.

"Give me five minutes with her and that won't be a problem."

She'd probably never know how right she was.

Aranea was a tall – at least six feet – statuesque woman with long, powerful legs, highly toned arms, a taught stomach, quite developed chest and wide shoulders. She was _gorgeous_. Body littered with small scars from her past, they only made her look even more beautiful. A heart shaped face with aquamarine eyes, a small nose and pouty lips, she caught attention just by entering a room.

The fact that she slummed it with 'the boys' more often than not, didn't take away from the _other_ fact that when she decided to throw on a dress, other women were _begging_ her to tell them how the _fuck_ she made it look so good.

A combination of confidence, good taste, and not giving a shit, would be her eternal response.

Aranea Celeste was a bit of a thrill-seeker. Growing up, she was always headstrong, stubborn and a little reckless with her life. Her teenage years were spent cutting class (though only the ones with blatantly sexist teachers) and running along rooftops. Free-running and parkour were her passions, loving the feeling of wind in her hair.

It was no surprise to anyone who knew her then, that once she got her driver's license, she opted to pursue a motorcycle one not long after.

A free spirit, who wasn't afraid to get into a fight if it meant keeping herself safe.

Unfortunately, in her mid-twenties, a rock-climbing accident, saw her legs broken, muscles torn, and lower-spine damaged. When she awoke, she was told that it was unlikely she'd ever regain movement in her legs.

She was heartbroken, often contemplating suicide.

And then she found a certain journal turned book.

It didn't change her worldview, like it did Mariko's. It did nothing _spectacular_. But it put things in perspective for her. She'd defined herself by her movements, her talents, the skills she spent years honing. No real formal training, just instinct, trial and error, and many, many minor injuries. Only this one…it was major.

They could fix her legs, and they did. It was the spine that was the issue. At best, her legs would feel permanently tingly. But the commands from her brain just weren't being registered.

The book, reading it, was what led her to a particular decision.

She had heard word of a highly dangerous, highly experimental surgery that claimed was aimed for injuries like hers. The risks were great enough that to even get on the waiting list, you had to sign a waiver proclaiming that should you face _worse_ injury, or even terminal, that you wouldn't hold the surgeons responsible.

Everyone she knew told her it was a stupid idea.

But the book…the _book_ , told her otherwise.

" _We all only have…ok let me rephrase that. We_ _ **believe**_ _we all only have one life to live. And that's it. So if we only have such limited time…the hell's the point in worrying about what others think of you? Know yourself. Believe in yourself. Your life is yours to do with what you choose._

 _Just…y'know. Try_ _ **not**_ _to dedicate it to pointless hatred or meaningless slaughter? We have the right to do what we want with our lives but we also_ _ **earn**_ _the right to be violently murdered if we just go and start beating people or killing them for stupid petty differences._

 _Actions invoke consequences, good or ill."_

It was her life. Her body. Her choice.

And she chose to do it.

Needless to say, the surgery was a success. And after a year of intense physical therapy…

She not only regained full use of her legs, but full mobility. If anything her legs felt _stronger_. Though it took a little bit to get used to how _responsive_ they were.

It seemed there was an unusual side-effect to the procedure that somehow managed to beneficially misalign her nervous system. In short, everything on her lower half was more responsive. And more sensitive. She could feel textures through her feet better than her hands. She could pretty much tell you the exact spot where every individual hair was growing from.

Her favorite thing was it made her sex life…interesting, to say the least.

Foot rubs before the accident already put her in…a state. After?

She's had to replace bed sheets many times from one.

One of the few things she'd get embarrassed about.

There was…however…one _other_ thing.

But that…that would come later.

* * *

Ahh…paperwork.

The bane of every organization.

Files and reports and requests alike. All to be documented and sorted and placed in storage for safe keeping. Copied and copied and copied again, signed and stamped and sealed away.

Today was a paperwork day.

Paperwork to finalize the official transfer of Becket, Stokes and Morales to the FEAR team. Paperwork to retroactively grant permission for the operation which extracted Alma Wade, Selh'teus Rodin and Katelyn Stokes from the now derelict Unity Station Shopping Centre. Paperwork to document the notion that Alma Wade was now…tame…for lack of a better term.

Nothing but text and pens and keys and files.

At least, the upside, was all of this was part of building the case against Armacham Technology Corporation, in hopes that wrangling them in legal bullshit, would cause them to tip their hand.

Becket reminded everyone that even if she was (happily) distracted right now, Alma still wanted her son back. And ATC had him.

It was mind-numbing and wrist cramping but…it had to be done.

And it _was_ getting done.

…until suddenly the lights all shut off with a low keening noise of energy going down a suckhole.

"The hell…?" Betters muttered, looking up at where his computers were now showing black screens.

"A power outage?" Jin Sun-Kwan mused.

"Did someone trip a breaker or something?" came Manny.

No answers came, as even mumbles of queries were beginning to filter through the closed door of the office.

"Backup generator should have kicked on by now…"

Unfortunately for them…

It wouldn't.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to try anything on?"

The group had spent about half an hour so far in the store, looking at the many articles of clothing on display. Marie had found a few dresses and tops she liked the design on, slipping in and out of a dressing room, trying them on and asking opinions. At Medea's urging, she'd not only tested outfits and tops that could be for every-day use, but also more stylish dresses.

" _On the off chance you end up having to attend some sort of officiated function."_

" _Who the heck would invite_ _ **me**_ _out to one of those?"_

" _Selh'teus knows an unusual cast of people. He knew your Uncle, after all."_

" _Point taken."_

Her favorite, happened to be a nice forest green halter cocktail dress. Seeming to be made of pure silk she loved the way it felt on her body and the exposure of her back. Though she couldn't unfurl her wings in the small rectangle she was trying it out in, let alone the larger store, she felt like it would be perfect.

Still, she didn't find many dresses or even tops that she'd wear while working. It would seem she would have to ask Medea's contacts to make something custom for her.

The question, however, had been posed to Alma, by Medea herself, as Marie was putting everything save the cocktail dress back. _That_ one, both she and Medea had agreed, she'd be purchasing.

"The last time I was in one of those boxes I nearly set the place on fire." Came Alma's whispered retort.

A soft, sly grin appeared on Medea's lips. "And afterward spent the night whimpering into my ears."

A sharp glare was immediately directed to the farseer. "Don't think you're immune to my lust, Dee. I can, and _will_ sit on your face right in the middle of this damn store." The psychic growled.

The grin just remained, if not getting wider, yet no response was given.

Instead, Marie had returned, quirking an eyebrow at the sight of a frowning Alma, radiating defiance, giving a half-heated glare to a smug looking Medea.

"All done, dear?"

"Uhh…yeah."

"Katie? Are you getting anything?"

"Pfft, hell no. Way out of my price range. Besides, I'm a suit kind of girl myself."

Medea nodded. She loved her black lace _everything_ but when it came to business she preferred pants herself.

For now, at least.

Still, with the others settled, Medea took the dress from Mariko and led the entourage to the checkout register.

 ***BZZT-HMMMMmmmmm…***

…only for the lights to flicker and die, with the low whine of a generator spinning down.

Blinking rapidly, everyone looked around in confusion as the only light came from outside.

"…guys…" Kate muttered, trying to stay quiet.

Alma and Marie looked at her, turning their heads fully. Medea quirked her right ear in Kate's direction, while keeping an eye on everything else.

"…that… _felt_ weird."

Marie blinked, confused. Medea also was not sure what she was getting at. But Alma?

"You felt it?"

Kate nodded gently. "Kinda. Like…maybe a second or two before the power went out."

Medea now was the one blinking. "What are you talking about?"

Kate sighed and fluttered her hand, directing Medea to look down. The ginger-woman's arms were partially obscured by a nearby clothing rack. She looked around and seeing everyone distracted, she closed her eyes and exhaled.

" **Qo."**

Medea's eyes widened in surprise, at the small flickering arc of electricity that softly crackled around the other woman's hands for a few seconds before fading.

"An elemental?!" came the shocked whisper.

Kate just shrugged. She wasn't afraid of her powers or judgment from others because of them, let alone these three ladies…but showing that she had them in public was still…fairly uncomfortable for her.

While Kate was displaying her talent, Alma was, oddly enough, pulling a Seth.

That is to say, she was running possible scenarios in her head, trying to determine the _origin._

 _Katie has a natural inclination towards electricity that weakly manifests as mild manipulations. She's got fine enough conscious control that she can modulate voltage intensities allowing her to do something from possibly burning someone out to charging batteries and powering electronic devices for a short time._

 _We haven't been told or shown why or how she gained her powers let alone her true maximum capability or range of influence. But something just cut the power to the store in a way that she was able to detect if only just barely and_ _ **just**_ _before it happened. Which means something_ _ **powerful**_ _must've been the cause._

 _But the question is, was it an active force, or just pure luck that she happened to be around before it occurred?_

 _I'm leaning towards active…because if it was just a blown fuse or an overload or something it wouldn't…have likely made her respond, let alone with such discomfort._

However, before Alma could even begin to attempt to speak her ponderings, they were distracted by the sound of a loud squeal; the piercing shriek of rubber on pavement, followed by the shattering burst of metal, metal, and glass colliding.

Looking out through the store's rather generously sized windows, the quartet could barely make out a broken vehicle, and a crowd of people scattered like shards.

"What just-

It was then, that Alma suddenly lurched violently.

 **Intense confusion.**

 **A loud crackling rumble.**

 **A sensation of weight, pressure, energy.**

 **A series of broken stones and twisted metal.**

 **A faint howl on the wind; many cries off in the distance.**

 **Focused concern.**

 _What the-_

 _ **IDIOT!**_

Her head snapped to the side, surprising the other three.

"You're-

 _ **GET TO HIM!**_

 _ **NOW!**_

Alma's eyes widened. The Phantom Girl had appeared, looking _very_ harried. Her already naturally shaggy pink hair was in _serious_ disarray, her body was hunched over rigid, her eyes positively _feral_ as she snarled at the psychic her demands.

She'd never seen that girl so _ruffled_. It was such a surprise, she actually _panicked_.

Lashing out and grabbing Kate and Medea by the hand she turned her head to Marie and _commanded_.

"Unity Station! Warp!"

And with the sound of a very loud rip, Three women _vanished_ into thin air, shocking what few clerks were watching.

Not bothering to look around at the surprised faces, Marie wrapped herself in the feeling of _**nothing**_ ;

 _I am a Feather on the Wind._

Focused on the place where her mother died.

And _pushed_.

* * *

"What…the hell is that…?"

They had appeared. And immediately, they _saw_.

It must have been two, maybe three stories tall. Or long. Whatever would fit better.

Comprised of interlocked stone and metal, glittering sparkles of reflected light off of thousands of glass shards, tethered together by crackling bands of blue spark.

It was tall and long and serpent-like and it seemed to create and dissipate a claw-like protrusion from revolving fragments of wall and steel.

Its very presence caused all of their nerves to alight, their bodies' thinner hairs standing on end in response to the unexplained feeling the monstrosity gave off, accompanied by the low, but continuous fizzing hum.

It was huge.

It was terrifying.

And it had one person standing in front of it.

The head of black hair turned, feeling the sudden appearance of four 'blips' in his field's range. Blips that were noted for _not being there before_.

As they recognized who the person was, standing against the stone beast, he had turned to face them. Needing to _see_ what it was that appeared, to judge if it was something that was to be used in combat or not, Seth's head looked away from the giant creature for only a few seconds.

But that was enough, for a rapid pulse to race through it. A loud **HRRRRRRMMMMM** echoed, and just as Seth's head snapped back to the monstrosity, a bolt of blue-white slammed into him from his right side, throwing him bodily, and at high speed, into a broken wall.

Which then collapsed the bit of floor it was holding, atop him.

A loud crackling screech rung from the beast, as if it was making a roar of joy or triumph.

But all that seemed to matter to one in particular…

Was that the waves had _stopped_.

The breeze had stopped.

The flowers vanished.

The petals faded.

The sky disappeared.

And her tree?

Her tree was _nowhere to be found_.

"…give…"

The other three were horrified. There was no reaction from the rubble. No response. No movement or pressure.

"…give him…"

It wasn't for another few moments, did Medea realize that someone was speaking. Barely heard over the crackling rumble of the stone monster.

"…give him back…"

And once she understood not just _who_ was speaking, but _what_ was being said…

"…give him back. Give him back. Give Him Back."

Did her eyes widen comically in _sheer terror_.

"Givehimbackgivehimbackgivehimback _givehimbackgivehimbackgivehimback_ "

And she grabbed Katie's and Raven's arms, and _booked it_.

" **Givehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimback** _ **givehimbackgivehimbackgivehimback!"**_

Because no way in _hell_ did she want to be anywhere _near_ that girl, when she cut loose.

" _ **GIVE! HIM!  
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**_

* * *

The emergency lights had come on, but no other power was being generated. As it stood, even cell phone signals weren't being sent out, all lines being stated as unavailable if beyond an empty dial tone. The situation was worrying, as even with the emergency lights, it was still very dark in many parts of FEAR headquarters.

Becket's team were with Betters and Jin, still attempting to make use of themselves by filing some of the hard copies of paperwork around the office, when suddenly the world… _tilted_.

Stokes saw Becket stumble and drop to the floor, barely catching himself with his hands, but spilling the folder full of progress reports onto the ground.

"Becket? Are you-

"…oh…oh no. Nonononono no no no…not again. Not again not again!"

"Becket?!" Now she was worried. The other three stopped.

"Son what's gotten into you?"

"Alma. Alma you need to calm- _fuck that hurts_ -calm down!"

Just as Stokes had reached him, Becket suddenly gave a loud gasp of air, as he was flung bodily into a file cabinet, pinned by some unknown force.

Betters jumped away from his desk, Stokes drawing her side-arm (futilely, of course. Even if Alma were physically there, in this state she'd have just ignored the bullets) and Jin calmly placing her own folder aside, standing straighter.

"Oh not _this_ shit again." Muttered Manuel, recognizing the signs of _weird shit_ happening.

It only lasted a few seconds, as just as suddenly, his body dropped to the ground, his nose bleeding, and a low, pained groan from his throat. He coughed a few times, slowly climbing to his feet, clutching his head and muttering to himself.

"Fucking…forgot how strong that girl's grip was…"

"Becket what-

"Commissioner…do we have…anything air-worthy?"

"Son what are you talking about?"

Becket shook his head, wiping his nose with his hand and giving a face of distaste.

"Alma's about to go apeshit for some reason…and all I got was impressions of the Mall that was attacked a few weeks ago, and some…glowing…stone…snake thing."

"A…what?"

"I don't know. I really don't. But it looked like it could be the reason for our sudden power outage. It was pretty much _illuminated_ by electricity."

"And you want a bird why?"

"To try to stop it. Or something. The power outage is hitting the whole city, Commissioner. That's the- _shit_."

"Becket?"

"Too late…you…might want to hold on to something. Something bolted do-

He went flying again.

Only this time…so did _everyone else._

 _ **GIVE!**_

 _ **HIM!**_

 _ **BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!**_


	13. Leviathan

"I'm telling you. If you send some out now, we'll-

"No, Aristide. We've already used up enough Replica Forces in the last capture attempt."

"But-

"When she was **calm**. Something has her obviously very worked up right now. This isn't the time."

An aggrieved sigh. "Very well."

A click and silence. The phone was disconnected. "I hate that woman."

"Then why not arrange for an…inconvenient relocation?" came the voice of another woman, this one closer.

"She's the only one who has any lingering information on Alma at the moment, Melinda. Though with how she handled the situation last year, the Chairman is considering giving her to the authorities as a way to get them off our backs."

"She did mess things up quite badly for us, Director."

The man, rubbing the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache that was Genevieve Aristide's existence, nodded.

"That she did."

Suddenly, his office door opened.

"Director? We have a situation."

"I'm well aware that Alma is aggravated, Eveline."

"The Subject is unconscious, sir."

"…asleep again?" he gave a humored sigh.

"Not asleep. Unconscious."

The man sat up straighter, confused. "I take it there is meaning behind that distinction?"

The new woman nodded, cinnamon strands swaying.

"When Subject Angel is asleep normally, there's signs of high level brain activity. This time…there's barely anything."

"Could it not simply be a deeper sleep than usual?" queried the assistant, Melinda. A tall blonde with hair pulled into a bun and wearing a pair of round glasses.

'Eveline' shook her head. "There's other signs. When the subject-

"Eveline, you can be less formal about it."

"Yes sir…when… _Angela_ is normally asleep, she reacts to outside stimulus. Trying to wake her gets a response. If she's familiar with you, she'll bat at you weakly, annoyed."

"Like a cat." The assistant clarified.

"Very much so."

"And if she isn't?" pushed the Director.

"She blows you away. We're still uncertain if its telesthetic force or not but its been known to fracture bones if she's in a particularly bad mood."

"And you're saying she's doing…neither of those things?"

"She's alive, but unresponsive entirely."

"Hence you claiming she's unconscious."

"Could it not have something to do with Alma?" hedged the assistant.

Eveline frowned. "I…it could. She did seem to fall unconscious when the spike hit."

"Director…maybe…we should-

"No. Even if the theory is correct and Alma is somehow behind our _Angel_ 's lack of consciousness, we don't have the forces or leeway to draw her attention to us. We're barely skirting the law through this agreement with the Military as it is, and I'm well aware that more than one branch is actually quite peeved with Armacham right now. We already have her son and thus are condemned to having her come after us at some point in the future as is."

He turned to Eveline. "Keep me appraised of Angela's progress. We'll keep monitoring the situation and proceed as needed."

"That may be difficult, sir."

"The power outage?"

"Yes sir. Our equipment is unaffected but a lot of my Division's communications are wired through the upper levels."

"And hence why you're here in person rather than making a call."

"Yes sir."

"Then just log whatever reports you can and when whatever is keeping the power out up there ends you can send it priority to me."

"Understood, sir."

The woman turned, leaving, closing the door behind her.

"…are you sure about this, Ken?"

"Not in the damn slightest Mel. But we've got an all-powerful psychic on the warpath out there when not a few hours ago she was calmer than a college kid after smoking a post-finals blunt. I know those old fucks only put me here as a scapegoat, expecting me to screw up somewhere so they could pin all of their legal woes on my stupid ass and throw me under the damn bridge like they plan on Aristide."

"There's nothing we can do, is there?"

"…our _Angel_ seems to be the only possible key. Alma _will_ be coming. And we likely won't be able to even slow her down. Not unless _she_ is ready."

"And she's largely uncooperative."

"I blame Aristide for that one."

"I think we _all_ do…I…I just can't help but feel like we're _missing_ something."

He gave a derisive snort. "No shit, Mel. We _all_ are. But right now, all we can do is keep moving forward. Vanek failed miserably to erase any ties Armacham has to Alma or any projects related to her, and Aristide is too focused on keeping her paycheck coming to look at the bigger picture. We're up shit creek and fuck paddles we've got a leaky kayak and we're one bad turn away from a fucking waterfall."

The assistant sighed. "…I should have married _you_ instead. Would have been a freaking librarian. Much safer job."

"Coulda told you that myself, Mel."

The office rumbled.

"…fuck this. Ken. We get out of all this shit alive? We quit, and go elope somewhere in Europe."

"…you serious Mel?"

"Fuck Aaron. Stupid prick got me into this mess and then dragged you in too. He's a shitty husband and a worse friend."

"Well. Looks like we've got something to look forward to."

The air shook once again. Reaching out, he caught a bottle of champagne as it dropped from a now wide open cabinet.

"Drink?"

She rolled her eyes. "Screw it. It's five o'clock _somewhere_."

"That's the spirit."

And as the air around them crackled, the ground beneath their feet rumbling in the waves of intangible pressure, it was with a steady hand, that Kenneth Manders, recently appointed Director of Replication Division, poured himself and his childhood friend a drink, to toast to an unsteady future.

 _ **Givehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehim  
backgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimbackgivehimback  
GIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACK  
GIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACK**_

 _ **GIVE**_

 _ **HIM**_

 _ **BACK!**_

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 12 -** _ **Leviathan**_

 **(BGM: NieR Automata: Dark Colossus – Kaijuu)**

It was actually quite the spectacle.

The strange monster made of stone and spark had already formed an equally unusual small distortion effect around it that seemed to levitate pieces of metal and plaster and other masonry to revolve around itself. What provided a key clue into that this wasn't some mindless elemental beast of twisted natural design was that the larger chunks of broken mall would strategically be placed in time to block some of the similar projectiles Alma was slinging at it.

As for Alma herself, her face was laden with tears, eyeliner (of a clearly inferior make, Medea made a mental note to get the girl something stronger) leaving streaks just along her cheeks. Her hair was wild and flowing like a raging flame, body coated in a dense haze of twisted space. And around her were too, pieces of stone and metal. Though far less than the…whatever it was.

All that aside, it made for quite the incredible sight. Those of Jacob's Crusher Crew as he'd called his company, were astonished and awed. Terrified, but awed.

As for our girls…

Katie was having a bit of a revelation.

* * *

… _I'm starting to see a pattern here…_

It wasn't a pleasant one.

… _y'know…every time I hang around these guys I feel like my life is put in danger out of nowhere._

It's not like they intended it. And she knew that. Just that for the last few years of her admittedly short tenure as an adult, were fairly peaceful. Finished high school, skipped college, went straight into working. Held a few decent jobs but left because of shithead bosses, moved in with her girlfriend…and…then almost died because of some psychic soldiers trying to kill the screaming woman not fifty feet away from her.

… _they aren't bad people. Well…ok Alma's past is a bit…not good…but she's trying to make up for it I guess. And…like he said…you can't…make a sword and then get pissed with the sword when it cuts things. Especially if the sword isn't given a proper mind. Medea's cute and funny in that cool older sister kind of way and Marie…_

Marie had changed the most. Last time Katie had interacted with the girl was Junior year, when she had that outburst. Otherwise…she was quiet and unassuming, keeping to herself and almost with an eternal exhausted frown on her face.

 _And now she's…bright. Shining almost._

And completely subservient to Seth.

 _Which is a little creepy but…makes sense I guess. She'd been obsessed with him even back then and now…its like she's herself finally. Where she wants to be._

Katie would admit to being a little jealous. Not of the affection Seth clearly gave her but of Mariko's _solid_ knowledge of 'I am Here, and Here is where I want to Be'. It was a sensation, a clarity of being and purpose that most people never _truly_ reached.

It was something to covet, indeed.

Still…it wasn't like her thoughts were fully negative. She'd lived a normal life, despite having control over electricity. It helped her in her various jobs, it generally went unnoticed and unneeded but…

There was a…well… _spark_ in her. A part of her that never really got to be explored. An adventurous side that wanted to push her power to its limit to see exactly what she could do. It was generally quiet and non-intrusive but ever since being _threatened with death_ back then…having to be… _saved_ like some useless _damsel_ …

She would admit, to close friends, that she was one of those people who sometimes…shifted…in mentalities. Some days she felt fully the female she was born as and would throw on a cute skirt or bare some cleavage (to which her girlfriend would give her _the eye_ to, and usually involved them not leaving the house till hours later), and other days she felt like a _boy_ and would toss on a snapback or a beanie and a pair of jeans and _wish_ she knew someone who could skateboard.

It was confusing, though it began to settle into more of a steady rhythm in the past year. She was Kate (though sometimes 'Kayde'), whoever that was, and that was who she was.

But it irked her a little, that back then, she couldn't do anything more than pop off a few rounds into the one fuck that was going to kill Alma. And that was panic firing.

The thing was…she could _feel_ it. The energy flowing off of the…thing…that had struck down Seth. Dead or not, he was out of the fight and she'd seen what he could do and it was preeeety awesome. But she could feel it. Every sparking discharge sent waves of _something_ rushing through her body. Her eyes never left the glowing monster of stone and metal but her fingers would twitch as if wanting to _grab_ something. Her chest would tighten as if she were preparing to take a deep breath randomly.

… _I want to_ _ **Shout**_ _._

Not just the whispered mumbles she'd been using. A full, proper, _**Shout**_.

She knew the words. She practically lived, breathed and ate _Elder Scrolls_. She knew the meanings and the intentions…

She just didn't believe she had the _power_.

Especially not enough to…do anything to a mutated _Storm Atronach._

But her thoughts would be derailed.

By the bleating sound of a very loud horn.

* * *

 ***HUUUURT-HUUUUUUUURRRRR***

Huddled together and trying to not be seen as they were, the Crushing Crew didn't notice when one of their own slipped off. How could they? Alma's random screams and shouts were loud enough to match the buzzing hum and crackling blasts of the monster-snake-thing. Meaning both were extremely distracting.

So when the loud horn suddenly ripped through the air, it caused almost all of them to flinch and cry out at once. And then pale and scatter as suddenly the front of a damn tanker truck came barreling through. Shouts of surprise and curses of anger were slung towards the driver…when suddenly they _all_ realized **someone** was driving the damn thing, and directly towards Alma and the monster.

A quick look around had Jake calling out.

"HARRY WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

* * *

His little girl had been saying for weeks that she wanted to meet the 'Red Lady'.

The same 'Red Lady' from last year that had given her nightmares of blood and death. The same 'Red Lady' that bore a suspicious resemblance to the woman who had appeared from thin air and then started attacking the lightning snake.

She'd started getting good at drawing. Even just with crayons. Sure, it could have been any black haired, white woman in a red dress, but there was one key thing.

The _wibblies_.

That's what his little girl called the strange spatial distortion she would see around the woman.

" _It makes her look like she's always shimmying!"_

And then little Cheryl would proceed to shake herself wildly, almost never failing to make him start chuckling. Which then made her start giggling too.

But he recognized that. Knew it the second she started screaming, when they were all forced to cover their ears. Damn she had a pair of lungs on her. But he knew. He knew he had to do something.

It was at the edge of his hearing. But she was calling for help. And she was alone against that… _thing_. He used to be a truck driver. Before his wife died. Cheryl was a miracle child, and he loved her dearly. But he'd dropped into a depression after she was born. He loved his wife truly.

And then on a whim…he'd decided to buy a certain _book_.

Much like Aranea, it didn't do anything miraculous. But it put things into perspective for him. Here was a man describing exactly how he felt, and not giving vague words of bland encouragement. But actual information. Tidbits of knowledge. Solidarity and companionship.

" _You're not alone. You may be by yourself, but you aren't alone.  
It's okay to take a break. It's okay to stumble and fall.  
Just get back up, nurse your wounds, figure out what tripped you.  
Sometimes, all we can do for the moment is survive. Survive to a point where we can learn what it means to Live.  
Get there. Even if you have to step on a few toes to do so. Buy them a drink or something after, no hard feelings."_

It was all for his little girl.

Everything he did. The last five years. She was his everything.

And if she wanted to meet the Red Lady.

Then by God she would _meet_ the Red Lady.

Now he just had to figure out how to _not die_.

* * *

Everyone watched in fear and shock as the truck began to lift into the air. Its rear wheels left the ground first, leading it to tilt vertically over the course of a few seconds, as it was caught in Alma's lashing psychic field.

A pair of green eyes watched intently. She'd never met the man, but he was part of her Uncle's demolition company. And he was trying to help, it seemed.

Maybe he'd survive the fall. The door opened, he was gripping the back of the seat while clearly trying to judge the timing to jump. But…even though it had only been maybe ten seconds since liftoff, the whole thing was already over fifty feet off the ground, and picking up airspeed.

Alma clearly had no knowledge of the man…if she would even care at this point. Even if he survived the fall…

But…could she really…

" _ **Take the skies, Woman."**_

Her face hardened.

With a strength she didn't know she had, she reached up and _tore_ her shirt wide open, throwing its tattered remains to the ground.

"Yes, sir."

" _Sway…to and fro…_ _ **Sway**_ _."_

Faster than ever before, the black pinions _exploded_ from her back. She was arched at the waist, tensed her legs and _dashed_. Wings flapping away, she threw her arms forward, spreading them apart as if trying to part the sea, and _ascended_.

"holy shit…"

Her uncle watched in _awe_ , as the girl he should have paid more attention to when she was younger, _soared_. They _all_ watched as she fluttered and weaved around swirling stone and broken light posts. As she twirled upside-down to graze the underside of a broken jeep, curled around the approach of a crushed hotrod, slipped between two converging chunks of still connected brick.

All within the span of ten seconds.

Seeing the approaching Mariko, Harry took a leap of faith and dived out of the truck. Muscles tensed and breaths caught as they watched the shockingly steady shape that was Harold Mason dive towards the ground. Marie saw what he was doing, noting the position he was facing and exactly what angle he was directing himself to be.

She flew over him, before latching onto the very truck he'd just vacated.

And then _rocketed_ towards the ground.

Her wings folded together, close to her arms, body streamlined like a feathery bullet, she quickly caught up towards the falling man, slipping her arms out from beneath her wings to scrabble at his shirt. Her nails, which she'd forgotten to trim that morning, found purchase, before she was able to pull herself a little closer, grabbing him around the waist. Instinctively, he went limp, hoping subconsciously that by doing so, the smaller, slimmer woman would be able to at least slow their descent before they both went splat.

Oh she did _more_ than just that.

Her wings spread wide, catching the air and yanking them both back. Marie winced slightly, the added weight put extra strain on her wings, making muscles she didn't even know existed, hurt. But nothing was broken, and everything was in working order, if a little overtaxed.

Harry wasn't overweight, but he wasn't exactly light either. And she'd not been joining the girls in their daily workouts, preferring to cook their breakfast instead.

That would have to change now.

The wings spread, the pinions fluttered, and she began flapping. The momentum she'd built up was slowly bleeding off as they got closer to the ground. It was only another ten seconds or so of gliding before they were low enough that she could drop him off safely. Deciding to let him go first, so she could better catch herself, she gripped his waist tightly to get his attention.

"Get ready to run!" she called over the buffeting winds.

He nodded, getting tense himself.

As they were approaching roughly ten feet off the ground, she let him go. He dropped the rest of the way, but rather than land and tumble as he expected, five of the others had run forward and spread out to catch him. Which surprisingly, they did, without falling. Marie on the other hand, continued to glide down, before flapping hard enough to stop her momentum five feet aboveground. Flapping twice more to stabilize, she cut her wings, the appendages vanishing in a burst of black feathers, and dropped into a crouch the rest of the way.

"Marie!" came the yell of her Uncle. "Marie what-

"I'm fine. He said to fly. So I flew."

It took him a few seconds, but Jacob eventually figured out _who_ she was referring to. But…he was…

"Girl we need to get you covered up." Spoke Aranea, beginning to remove her jacket. But Mariko shook her head.

She was…surprisingly detached from the notion that a bunch of strangers were seeing her bare breasts. Looking back later, she'd be horribly embarrassed. But in the moment…

Something was still synchronized to the battle taking place behind her.

"I can't. I might need my wings again."

Aranea looked at the younger woman, frowning. Her mind was racing. And suddenly, she had an idea.

"Knife!"

Mariko blinked. "What-

And yet a different person came and handed Aranea a switchblade, specifically carried to cut chords and ropes in case of entanglement.

"Ok, shirt…" Aranea muttered. She reached up to her own to start taking it off when another voice cut in.

"She saved my life she can have mine." Wasting no time, Harold Mason unbuttoned his own long-sleeve shirt and took it off, handing it to Aranea, before putting his jacket back on and zipping it in replacement. "Put this on."

"My wings-

"Trust me sweetie."

Confused and a little off-kilter, she unconsciously looked to her Uncle for guidance.

Her _Owner_ wasn't here at the moment.

"Known her for years, hasn't done me wrong yet, Raven."

That he used her nickname was all she needed. Marie adorned the offered shirt, buttoning it and rolling the sleeves.

"it's a bit big…"

"Perfect. Now hold still."

The next minute was spent with the older woman slipping the switchblade under Mariko's borrowed shirt, and expertly carving a big enough hole in the back for her wings to spread out. As well, she cut the middle of the reverse side downwards, and had Marie undo the bottom three buttons, where Aranea then tied the tattered tails together tightly enough to keep the winged girl's breasts in place.

"You've got amazing tits, sweetie but those things need to be held down if you're going to be flying like that. Trust me, I used to do parkour when I was a bit younger than you, and my chest was a little bigger even then. Hurt like a bitch."

"I…didn't even notice really…"

"Maybe not now but once the adrenalin wears off you're gonna be sore as hell. Got anyone special to massage them for you?" came a teasing query.

"Under the rocks."

Aranea froze.

"…oh honey…"

"If he's dead then I've lost my **Master** just after gaining him and my life has thus lost all meaning." Came the very… _hard_ reply.

And then suddenly, Mariko's head turned ever so slightly, that her left eye met both of Aranea's

"I **refuse** to believe such a thing."

Aranea just stayed silent, swallowing her response, and nodding.

"H-how does it feel?"

"Better. Like I'm wearing a swimsuit. Hmm…"

Suddenly an idea!

"…maybe my outfit could have a leotard instead…"

"Uhh…huh?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Thank you."

"No, miss. Thank _you_. It was a dumb idea of mine but…that woman…she needed another weapon."

"Alma's doing her best but…she's clearly not in her right mind. And she doesn't have total control. Or she'd have probably thrown you out before you got too high."

"Marie…are you really gonna go back in there?"

"Not actively." She shook her head. "But I _will_ be useful. We're all in this together. I don't know what that thing is or where it came from but we're not going to be able to get away from it. We have to destroy it somehow. And I might be needed for that."

Jacob was about to respond when a _different_ loud noise emerged.

The fluttering roar, of an approaching helicopter.

* * *

It took them a little bit to get moving. First everyone had to recover from the tangible psychic blast that had thrown them all into nearby objects. Betters had been bruised and Jin landed wrong, pulling a muscle in her calf that had her unable to stand without pain. Once again, Betters was forced to hope that writing and signing a report dated a few days prior, would allow them leeway in any follow-up investigations as to why they were using one of their few allotted helicopters, let alone one that actually was equipped with weaponry.

The extra time came from gathering a few combat-ready operatives to go along with Stokes and Becket. Neither of them being pilots, they had to wait until a literal runner could track one down and deliver the message to prepare for an emergency operation.

And then they had to crank the hangar bay door manually since the power was still out.

Luckily for them, the chopper had already been in the process of refueling and even with the power all over the base disabled, was run by an external battery. The ten minute wait was spent with Becket unconsciously twitching and constantly rubbing the bridge of his nose, while Stokes calmly massaged the back of his head. She felt…annoyed, that she couldn't do much more than offer him physical support while Alma was clearly hurting him.

That said, the psychic had been largely calm, practically docile up until this point; so whatever occurred to have her lashing out at the world uncontrolled like this, after so _very_ obviously sincerely wanting to 'be better' as she called it, must have been **big**.

And when they finally arrived after a five minute flight…

 _Yeah…yeah that's pretty fuckin' big alright._

All of their reports would say the same thing.

At least ten stories tall. Made of floating stone and interconnected metal. Covered in a coat of brightly crackling electricity. It was huge and snakelike and a few levitating pieces of wall and marble looked almost like it was in the shape of a claw.

The pilot had wasted no time in angling the bay doors of the chopper to be in visual sight of the monstrosity. Hovering in place just out of range of where either being's whirling debris fields were active, one of the operatives, Stevens, anchored by another, Markus, took aim with an RPG launcher and fired.

The rocket propelled grenade streaked towards the monster…and then puttered out and stopped, ten feet from its face.

Where it then dropped to the ground before detonating.

Confused, but not deterred, a second round was loaded and fired in short order.

Only for the exact same thing to happen.

But after the second shot…the monster… _responded_.

* * *

She watched the helicopter begin to flag. Its rotors spun down, its frame listing and wobbling. She saw a familiar shape, more familiar than before, get thrown from the side, a small almost imperceptible object flung from the figure's hands, out of reach.

She felt, a wall of fear crash into her. A terror she'd not felt ever before. It tasted different than the terror for her life, and different than the terror for the fate of the man who was becoming her best male friend. It was fuzzy, almost numbing.

She didn't recognize Marie flapping away, trying to reach the chopper. She didn't notice the way Medea seemed to gasp and have her gaze become unfocused. She didn't hear the curses and calls and cries of fear and wonder from the people in the demolition company.

All she knew, was something in her _burned_.

It buzzed and crackled. It fizzled and hummed. Something deep within.

She never noticed the sparks jumping between her fingers, her eyes flickering into a yellow-hued, blue-white shimmer for brief seconds at a time.

To be honest it was a combination of many smaller factors that resulted in the next coming event.

One such being she was _held_ by Alma, when they first met. Alma's psychic presence being that it tended to…taint…the things it came in contact with. And Alma came into _very_ close contact with her. Not as close as with _Medea_ of course but…usually what would trigger Alma finding herself buried in someone's mind, did nothing.

On the surface, at least.

Another such factor was that she had been using her powers ever so slightly more. They were always familiar, and she understood them enough for them not to interfere in her everyday life. But it was only since meeting Selh'teus, did she really start…well…wanting to use them. Even if only slightly. While she hadn't _suppressed_ her abilities, or tried to hide them away, they went underused for quite a few years.

Untrained, for the most part. Allowed to keep some of that raw bite, that pure fury that Masters give up in exchange for control.

Yet another factor was the nature of the situation. The beast Alma raged against was made of primarily electricity. The raw kind of energy that she herself could manipulate even if on a smaller scale. That unconscious synchronicity of forces resonated within her, humming to, almost singing to her inner 'battery' like a siren call. There was, of course, something _more_ within the monster's spark, something that made it belong to _it_ and nothing else; but the echo of temptation was like a ripple in a pond.

She could feel it, when it first 'woke', and that was strange enough.

But still, the situation involved something that was her focused element. Electricity.

Lightning.

If Seth were to be asked he'd say the formula was excessively convoluted. Lightning came from the heavens, building up in the clouds, descending down to the ground in a rapid bolt of power, that with enough strength, could puncture stone.

" _As an element going by most modern gaming rules, it would fall under the hybrid class. When you think about it, it's the most convoluted fucking thing to make naturally. Clouds are made of water in a gas state but yet solid enough at the frays to condense into rain at times. Yet at the same time it generates enough electricity to discharge it. Yet that electricity burns with a savage heat. But it always goes in a straight line, summoned to the nearest reactive object, naturally being the ground._

 _So the fucking thing should be a wind or earth element, but its somehow all fucking four. Fire for heat, water and wind for source and shape, earth for tracking. But I guess if you wanted to get specific…I'd say the combination would be fire-wind, fire-fire-earth."_

She didn't have a mantra. She had no Aria or prayer or chant.

But she knew… _words_.

She knew **intent**.

The feeling in her chest built beyond its possible safe capacity.

That was her _cousin_ , in danger of falling to her death.

And while she'd just watched Marie save that other man's life…

Marie's wings would be needed more than once in too short a time.

 _I need to get there._

That was her focus. Her vision. The need to be in a place she wasn't already, at a hyper-accelerated pace.

 _I_ _ **need**_ _to get there._

It would be a large distance to cover in a brief stint. As few steps as possible covering the longest range she was capable. It had to be fast, it had to be direct, it had to be _safe_.

 _I_ _ **need**_ _to get_ _ **there.**_

All she could hear was the hum in her ears. The low, buzzing, fizzing drone of a continuous spark. The crackle hiss of a series of bolts jumping, a current unending, a transmission of _power_.

She needed to be where her cousin was.

And that was her problem.

Until suddenly…

It _wasn't_.

" _The most important thing, when braving the Empty, the Nothing, the Void…is to_ _ **know who you are**_ _. Even if you're constantly questioning things, that you're questioning them means you_ _ **know**_ _you don't understand. Even_ _ **that**_ _knowledge can be enough. So when you are staring in the face of the Nonexistent, don't ask who you are. Just know. Own yourself. Believe, the following words._

 _ **I Am.**_ _"_

" _ **Qo Bah Kest."**_

* * *

Kiera Stokes thought she was going to die.

After all the crazy shit she'd been through, after surviving Alma, after watching a single young man tear through an entire squadron of elite trained – as well as cloned and psychically reinforced – soldiers with nothing but his fists and walls of invisible force that could splatter them like pancakes…

She was going to die fucking up putting on a goddamn parachute while making a leap of attempted safety from a helicopter that was being somehow controlled by a giant electric metal stone snake monster that rockets did nothing to.

…ok while she really _didn't_ want to die and was terrified as fuck in the moment, later on, when thinking about it with the others, she'd unconsciously muse that it was one _fucking_ _ **metal as hell**_ _way to go_.

But in the moment all she could think was her terror, lament she never even really got to ask Becket out, and hear the rushing of the wind through her ears as she cursed her stupid fumble with the goddamn straps.

She wasn't clumsy in the slightest, but she never did do well with most ball-related sports.

In her defense, the damn thing _jolted_ at the exact moment she was donning it. So her being sent flying was _really_ not her fault, nor was her release of its straps.

She closed her eyes, shed a few tears once the reality hit, and silently accepted her fate.

…when the sound of **roaring thunder** shook her whole body.

Her eyes snapped open, before they widened in _absolute amazement_ as in a near blinding flash of crackling blue and white and _yellow_ tinted electrical discharge…

Her fucking _younger cousin_ appeared in mid-air right next to her.

She was so shocked she couldn't move as the woman clamped her arms around Stokes' waist, holding her so tightly she thought she would snap in two.

And then the _strangest_ sensation washed over her.

It was warm. It was fuzzy. It was tingly in all the right places.

It felt like the afterglow of an amazing orgasm.

It felt like the fluttery warmth of every time she thought about just grabbing Becket and taking him out for a night on the town.

It felt like the low, burning _satisfying_ pain of a good workout.

It felt like the itchy warmth of a christmas sweater rubbing against a healing scab.

It felt like the tingling burn of muscle relaxant cream.

It felt like the buzzing calm of a full body massage.

It felt like _all_ of those things and countless more _at the same time_.

And suddenly, they all _exploded_ through her mind.

Before the fading rumbles of _shattered sky_ echoed through her ears.

As she realized she was _on the ground, unharmed_.

With her little cousin, breathing heavily, body _lit up_ with fading sparks.

And suddenly she never felt so _proud_.

* * *

"This is Dusk Crown. We are suffering a critical power failure. All instruments are unresponsive. We appear to be caught in some kind of electromagnetic field. I repeat this is Dusk Crown…"

He was the only one left.

He'd fought tooth and nail pulling on levers and flipping switches, trying to divert power to every system he could.

He'd struggled. He'd battled.

And he bought them time.

He couldn't get the bird out of the radius of the suddenly expanded invisible barrier that had rapidly sapped it of all power and began dragging it towards the whirling debris field that was the monster's outer shell.

But he'd bought them time.

He knew he'd die here. This would be his end. The last flight he'd ever take.

But he'd _bought them time_.

And in a moment of morbid irony, he remembered a line from his favorite superhero film.

" _ **A good death…is its own reward."**_

Yet…

Pity for him, Death was looking somewhere _else_ in that moment.

As his eyes opened for what he thought would be the last time, he saw, to his astonishment, a twisting of air just outside the cockpit's windshield.

Said distortion burst in a wave of black pinions, to reveal an extremely beautiful black haired young woman.

With two, _huge_ black feathered wings flapping behind her.

His eyes widened as they registered not merely the _angel_ in front of him, but that she was holding, of all things, a cement coated pole.

Which she then _swung with all her might_.

 ***PAH** _ **-KISH***_

Covering his eyes with his arms, he unconsciously flinched at the sound of shattering glass. How _strong_ was this girl? That was double-reinforced! It could take five high-caliber rounds in the same exact spot before _cracking_!

"GIMME YOUR HAND!"

The raging winds and loud crackling hum from the monster almost drowned the woman's voice out.

"HURRY!"

Not needing to be told twice, he unclasped his harness and climbed atop the dashboard, reaching his left arm out beyond where the barrier used to be.

He felt it be clasp solidly by another, before with a mighty yank and a powerful flap of her wings, the young woman pulled him through the open hole. Quickly she substituted hand for waist, before flapping again, and diving out of the way as a particularly large piece of stone came from beyond her sight, smacking into the dead chopper.

* * *

While all of that chaos had been going on, Medea Wolfe had not been idle.

Though you wouldn't be able to tell it by looking at her.

No she had been trying to _see_.

She had taken mild note of the events going around her, but was tuning them out.

Even when it was revealed that the busty woman that had created a makeshift top for Mariko had the capability to teleport.

She'd been largely unmoved when Katie had suddenly become a bolt of lightning and saved her cousin.

No…she was too focused on _pushing past the nothing_.

And push she did.

Assisted by the group that had arrived in that now destroyed chopper.

The moments their failed rocket attempts occurred, there was a _jolt_ in Medea's head. A strange, pounding, lurching feeling. And she _saw_.

The world seemed to come to a halt for a few moments. She saw the monster. She saw its 'body'. She saw the coat of electricity that hummed between its 'joints' and 'limbs' and surrounded its whole form.

And then she saw _exactly_ what she was looking for.

* * *

"The _Kaijuu_ is drawing power from the entire city."

This statement wasn't shouted. It wasn't screamed. But other than the sounds of the monster and Alma's now curse-filled tirade as she launched anything she possibly could at it, Medea's voice was the loudest noise.

"Wait what?" Came Stokes' response.

"That stone-snake creature is being powered by something within itself, which is drawing energy from the rest of the city."

"That explains the power outage at that clothing store, then." Retorted Marie.

Medea nodded. "Yes."

"Also our base. Even Auxiliary power is offline." Becket confirmed.

"And also how that thing seems to have freakin Magneto powers…" muttered Aaron Jackson, the third of the six-person group that had arrived in chopper.

Also the one saved by Aranea displaying her sudden ability to teleport.

"So what can we do? Nothing got through it, and Alma is…still too out of it to try any focused attacks."

… _powered by external energy coming from the city…?_

A pair of blue eyes narrowed in thought.

… _I've just discovered I can…basically Lightning Sprint. If that thing has some kind of barrier that's being powered by electromagnetism then…maybe…_

 _But can I do something like that? Can_ _ **anyone**_ _?_

… _before we left…there was a car crash. What if…what if this thing doesn't just drain from the city, but eventually the state?_

… _how many people have died in the middle of operations because the emergency power for the hospitals is_ _ **gone**_ _…?_

That was it then. Whether it worked or not, whether she could or not.

She couldn't _not_ try.

"I…have an idea…"

* * *

"What are you going to do?" The black haired flier asked over the sound of her flapping wings.

Katie looked down at the transformer just beneath her feet, the young woman perched on top of the wooden parts of the power pole. She'd had Marie fly her to the closest transformer out of the way of the clash of supernatural forces.

"Something monumentally dangerous and stupid."

"Naturally. I'm going to warn you this though."

The ginger woman turned her head.

"If anything happens to you beyond a severe case of exhaustion I'm telling your girlfriend you saw me topless."

Katie's nose scrunched in irritation and she opened her mouth-

" _Without_ , my permission."

The ginger woman gave a low, deep glare.

But she _understood._

They'd read the same Book, after all.

"…that's a real dick move."

Mariko shrugged. "Then don't die."

"You really fucking suck at motivating people."

Marie gave a sardonic chuckle. "I'm a follower, Katelyn. A _Servant_. Not a leader."

Katie gave an aggressive sigh and rolled her eyes. "I'll try not to die then."

"Good. Master likes you. It would be inconvenient to him to have to find some way down to hell and drag your sorry ass back up here."

"I'm going to _hell_ now?"

"Kate. You're a lesbian."

The frown spoke volumes. Sadly, though homosexual rights had progressed, many…annoying evangelists still professed that 'all gays are sinners and going to burn in hell.'

And lets not get into their views of those who identify as nonbinary…

"Right. You should…probably not be around for this."

"If you fail, it will be alright. If you die, it _won't_."

She sighed and rolled her eyes once more. "I get it. Thanks. _Mom_."

Marie just nodded curtly. "See you soon."

And vanished in a burst of black pinions.

* * *

 _This is it._

That it was. She had sat down, precariously, on the edge of the uppermost cross-line of the pole. Her feet were dangling some thirty-odd feet above the ground, her butt probably was going to get a splinter because who knows how long ago this thing was last given a good once-over with sandpaper.

And sitting between her legs was probably the biggest most dangerous object this side of an atomic bomb she'd ever straddle.

 _Look I know I'm from fuckin' Kansas but this is just stupid._

Her idea wasn't to _take_ from the monster. The _Kaijuu_ as Medea had labeled it. She didn't think she ever could. That thing clearly had its own level of sentience or consciousness or _something_ as it was occasionally blocking Alma's thrown whatevers with its own debris by moving it from the _opposite direction_ of its natural cyclone rotation.

But instead…she would _deny_. To use herself as a conduit, a limiter, an impromptu shutoff valve.

…

She was scared.

Terrified, really.

Her whole body was shaking.

And yet…

She'd never felt more _alive_.

Straddling a box of _power_ on top of a wooden pole thirty feet aboveground intending to break the barrier keeping a giant lightning stone snake from being properly destroyed with the intent to _eat electricity_ to give her cousin and her allies a chance to maybe save the city.

The _spark_ lanced along her fingertips. Her hands hovered over the thick chords.

And she let out all of her hesitation in a single breath.

"… _ **Shit."**_

* * *

It was as if a star had been born.

A brilliant flare of crackling blue-white light had erupted in the distance. A loud, vibrating buzz-hum rippled through the air.

The fizzing hissles (that's a word now, it's a mixture of a hiss and a sizzle) continued for thirty, long, agonizing seconds.

And then suddenly a loud _pop_ caused every single person to flinch violently.

The air pressure around them all had _shifted_ suddenly and without warning.

It was only when their hearing got back, did they realize that the world had _changed_.

All because of a single voice.

 _ **Screaming in defiance of all that was before her.**_

" _ **DOV QO REIN!**_ _ **"**_

* * *

When the light cleared from their eyes, and the ringing in their ears began to fade. They could do nothing but stare at the **literal beam** erupting from where Mariko had flown Katelyn, _roaring down upon the Kaijuu_.

It was a loud, shrill, crackling roar of power connecting the two, before a burst of light and spark ripped along the mighty lance and crashed into the stone-metal beast like the fist of an angry god.

Unfortunately the detonation created a shockwave strong enough to blow them all off their feet. Fortunately, none of them were injured. Just knocked for a loop.

None of them could see past the super-heated gravel beneath the air the beam had traveled. Otherwise they'd have seen poor Katelyn, coughing and sputtering and twitching violently while coated in lingering arcs of electricity, groaning on the ground as she was assaulted by the _worst_ hangover headache in the history of fuck.

But she was alive.

And inside?

She was fucking _cackling_.

But as they got to their feet and looked at where the impact zone was…they _all_ could see that _something_ had changed.

The Kaijuu, the beast of stone and metal and glass and lightning…had become _lesser_. The sparks were weaker, the glow dimmer, the whirling debris field all but faded. The claw-analogue was missing, parts of its outer 'shell' had been ripped off…

And most importantly, the feeling of _malevolent pressure_ had diminished. The buzzing hum that had set their instincts to struggle to remain, that had set their miniscule hairs on edge; was weaker.

There was a moment of _awe_.

It was incredible, if terrifying, to see Alma lose her shit and suddenly everything around her erupt into the air in a whirlwind of rage and hate and fear.

It was amazing, to witness Marie rip her own shirt off and grow wings to save the life of a father trying to help a wayward daughter against the thing that took away her most important thing.

It was _astounding_ to see Katie suddenly become a lance of electricity _twice_ to catch and save her older cousin from becoming a bloody smear and yet another statistic.

It was _jaw dropping_ for many of them to learn that one of their own, Aranea, had the ability to _teleport_ and she never once used it or mentioned it throughout the years they knew her.

But all of the days events were currently _**topped**_ , by witnessing an otherwise normal looking young woman, **literally spit a beam of lightning** , at such potency that the _demon_ that had emerged and seemingly killed the only possible person capable of fending it off; was _made lesser from it_.

" _ **DIE YOU TITSHITTING FUCKNUTTING UNHOLY CUNTWAFFLE SPAWN OF A RABID SNAKE WHORE PLOWED BY A MINDRAPED GOLEM COCK!"**_

And then of course, Alma went and ruined the damn moment.

…it's alright.

You'll get used to her doing things like that.

* * *

She'd been able to See the connection. The line of power that linked the monster of metal and lightning to the rest of the world. She'd been able to determine the location of the source of its impregnable regenerating barrier, the supercharged force field that the Power Armor had been protected by.

That _sight_ led to what now felt like the last leg of the encounter. What few weapons remained from the failed aerial assault by Becket's team were being launched with purchase directly at the Kaijuu. Alma was flinging every possible large object or multiple _burning_ piles of stone and metal she could grab from the Mall's ruins.

But she also began to _See_ something else.

Something… _more_.

It started with a faint, tinny sound. Like an echo on the wind in the distance. Her vision swam, the air turned grey, the sight of the spark-laden monstrosity being replaced by…something incomprehensible.

The sound grew. The yells and curses of Alma, the hissing whistles of rockets being fired, the continuous low humming buzz of the coat of electricity on the _demon_ …

All of it…diminished.

And then she felt something. A thump of an object. Hitting the back of her head.

Absently she reached up, and looked at her hands.

Her hands…covered in blood.

Her eyes widened. A gasp of shock from her mouth. She was bleeding.

…except she blinked.

And the blood was gone.

Her head jerked backward in confused surprise.

 _Loud. Breaking glass. Twisting metal. Shattering marble.  
A man stepping out of a coffin-like structure. A flash.  
A feeling of pain. She looked down.  
Blood flying from her chest._

Another gasp. Suddenly the sounds of the monster could be heard again. Emerging rapidly as if her head were surfacing from beneath water.

 _What was-_

 _Sudden screams. The sound of gunfire. Panic. Fear.  
Panting of breath. Exhaustion from running. Tripping over a dead body.  
A shadow.  
Another scream.  
It was his own._

"…-OU ASSCOCKING BITCHMONKEY!"

Alma was cursing up a storm. Still. Medea's head pounded. She could barely see. Was it tears in her eyes? Or something else?

 _Runrunrunhavetorunhavetohidethey'regoingtokillme.  
Nonononononotherenottherenotunderthecounteryoucantseeme.  
Criestoomanycriesshutupshutupshutup!  
Ohgodikilledhershe'snotbreathingnononononononoNONONONONONO!_

A sharp, deep inhale of breath. She began to cough, choking on her own spit. Her heart was racing. Her head was pounding. What was going on? What was-

 _A soft clatter.  
What is this? A jewel?  
He bent down to get a closer look. Too small to be a threat.  
A distortion of air. A wall of pressure. The muffled sound of crunching._

She bit back a scream. Her body felt like it was being _crushed_. She felt her arm breaking, her fingers snapping, her skull caving in. She flinched violently, not noticing the viscous fluid leaking from her left nostril. It was sharp. It was sudden.

 _Terror.  
He saw those things drop from the sky.  
Families ripped to shreds from a hail of gunfire.  
A loud clanging. He looked down._

This time, she _did_ scream.

Fire licked at her chest. Heat burning her face. A concussive wave of force rattled her bones. Pieces of stone and metal littered what remained of her legs.

 _Mommy! Where's Mommy!  
The Scary Men were coming!  
He jumped at the sound of a loud boom.  
Through watery eyes, he looked up._

She felt her neck crack. Her head crushed. Her shoulders shattered. The statue had fallen upon her. Smashing her into a bloody smear on the ground.

 _Screams of terror._

Her body shuddered _violently_.

 _Splintering knives of agony._

Her hair was matted to her face with sweat.

 _Burning walls of rage._

A splatter beneath her. She'd vomited what little she'd had for lunch.

 _Bones broken.  
Hearts punctured.  
Limbs ripped off.  
Skulls crushed.  
Spines shattered.  
Eyes popped._

She was coughing heavily. She could barely breathe. Her heart was racing. Her body felt numb. Her nose was bleeding.

It was too much. Too much too much toomuchtoomuchtoomuch!

She didn't see Raven land next to her. She didn't feel the black haired woman grab her hands. She didn't hear the winged maiden calling out to her, crying her name, telling her to snap out of it.

She could only comprehend _death_.

Fire and pain.

 **Blood and Thunder.**

Every single death, every loss of life, every _ending_.

The last few moments of _everyone_ involved in the atrocity at the very _ruin_ she found herself in.

It was too much. The human mind, even attuned to the very nature of _Time_ as hers was, was never intended for such an overload.

She had pushed her powers too far, and in return, they _pushed her back_. She wanted to see, and thus, she saw. Only she saw _everything_.

Even her visions of her own end were not this numerous. Not even the sight of the world collapsing from Alma's psychotic will was so graphic.

She had been a mere _Observer_ then.

But now…with this, she was being made a _participant_.

And she was **not** ready.

Her body wracked with violent shudders, Raven pinning her arms to her sides, holding her tightly. Medea thrashed and cried, blood dribbling down the corners of her mouth. Not so much that she was coughing it up, but from the slow, steady flow from her own nose.

She was lost, adrift in a storming sea of _pain_. Her mind was flooded with their last moments, their last thoughts, their last feelings. She could feel something in her chipping away. Breaking, splintering apart. All as the walls of _time itself_ seemed to close in upon her. Bombarded with hundreds of sights and sounds all linking together never coming to a stop just slamming into her again and again and again.

It felt like she was being pulled under. Submerged in a sea of broken souls, a meadow of lives cut short, a sky of screaming fear and rage.

With her last, coherent thought.

She reached for the fear that was _hers_.

" _ **MASTEEEEEEEEEERR!"**_


	14. Master

Nobody else knew what was happening to her. Kate was still shuddering under the remnant effects of her own _boneheaded_ idea. Just after her sudden impromptu _Lightning Sprint_. Alma was cursing and yelling and screaming as she launched object after object at the giant. Becket, Stokes and their surviving entourage were waiting for an opening in the Kaijuu's defensive barrier. While whatever Katelyn did had weakened it tremendously, their attempts to take the beast down had been met with swirling rubble and shards of walls blocking their missiles.

It hadn't had the exact same reaction time or strength, but that it was still able to readily defend their strongest weaponry was an irritant. And with limited ammunition and no way to receive reinforcements, they took a wait and see approach. The demolition crew were as far out of the line of fire as they could get given that this thing could launch whatever it chose at nigh-untraceable speeds.

Mariko was already clinging to the blue haired woman, who was doing her best impression of someone attempting to vibrate at a high enough frequency to dissolve their own molecular structure.

…but _everyone_.

Despite the loudness of the very existence of the… _thing_.

Despite the shrill angry roars of Alma.

Despite the sounds of explosions of impacting rockets.

 **Everyone**.

Heard Medea's terror-filled, agonized, _plea_.

Eyes turned to her direction.

Alma's own head snapped in _abject shock_ at the sound.

Raven winced as the scream was literally right next to her ears, leaving them ringing.

Kate had the unfortunate unsubtle thought that it was no _wonder_ Alma had a good time with her.

Hey, _someone_ had to.

However…because the _scream_ drew their attention, thus bringing the 'battle' to a… _screeching_ halt…

They _all_ bore witness.

 **As the collapsed rubble where Seth had been flung into, vanished into thin air.**

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 13 -** _ **Master**_

 **(BGM: Rockman X4 – Zero Stage 1)**

It hit her like a bucket of water.

The world's colors inverted. The sky became devoid of all clouds. Dust and smoke and ash all _disintegrated_.

She couldn't hear _anything_.

No screams.

No cries.

No yells.

No sobs or curses or explosions or gunshots nor even the humming fizz of the _monster_.

It was calm.

It was _empty_.

It was **silent**.

She didn't feel the ache in her bones.

She didn't feel the blood on her face.

She didn't feel the arms around her own.

She felt _nothing_.

As if she was just _floating_.

But she _saw_.

Oh she _**saw**_.

 **Him**.

He stood in a small crater. No. Not stood. _Float_.

His feet didn't touch the ground. The ground, in fact, seemed to be _running away from him very very quickly_.

…well…not really.

Because everything was _stillness_.

Except _him_.

With tear-filled eyes, she watched him _step_.

And step.

And _**step**_.

It was a slow walk. Like he had all the time in the world. Like nothing mattered except getting where he needed to go.

Nothing else moved.

Nothing else made a sound.

She didn't see the erosion of the concrete behind him. The ground cracking and giving way into numerous potholes with every lift of his feet.

She didn't see the rubble and gravel be pulverized into dust that was then _obliterated_ with every swish of his pantlegs.

She just saw _him_.

The only thing of _color_ in a world of grey.

She saw **him**.

And when he stopped, back to her, facing the stillframe of the giant monstrosity of frozen spark and timelocked stone.

She didn't bother trying to hold back the tears.

She had put her trust in him, those years ago. Requesting his tutelage, requesting his friendship.

She had put her love in him, not terribly long ago. Requesting his companionship. Requesting his attentions.

But she had not, up till now, truly put her _faith_ in him.

He was human. He was fallible. He was not God nor Saint nor any form of Perfection.

She trusted him. She loved him. She believed in him to an extent but…

She was not, to this point, Raven.

He had done right by her, continuously. That gained her trust. He had cared for her, regularly. That gained her love.

But she _expected_ something to go wrong. And wrong it did. They argued, they fought, they disagreed on many a thing.

They still returned to each other in the end, growing because of it.

But it was a lingering belief from her childhood, the last, stubborn remnant of a blind dream, that Man could not, Should not, have _faith_ placed upon them.

It always made her feel strange, whenever he said he _believed_ in her.

It was not a confidence issue. It was not a lack of self-enforcement. It was merely her _own_ belief.

She didn't deserve it.

No human did.

But now?

Seeing **him** stand before her.

Seeing him _respond_ to her.

Seeing him **answer her cry.**

…she'd been wrong before.

And one of his _lessons_ , was to acknowledge and accept when you are wrong. No matter what you're wrong about.

She'd been _wrong_ before.

And until now…

She had never been so _happy_ to be wrong.

"You kept your promise…"

* * *

Alma couldn't believe her eyes.

She'd blinked right after Medea screamed…A scream loud enough to rival her own. A scream filled with a _literal_ taste of a terror so mindblowingly powerful it _snapped her out of her rage-trance_.

And not only was that…stone cage _absolutely obliterated_ , but suddenly _Seth_ was standing in front of Medea.

Like…like he'd _teleported_.

…and yet…

She _still_ couldn't feel him.

…actually that was wrong. She could feel _something_. Only it was-

"You kept your promise…"

Ok how had she heard that?

She was at least fifty feet away, while the humming buzz of the _thing_ was still going.

And yet she heard it, clear as day. Not felt it. Not even spoken through mental connection. But verbally.

A whispered, _wondered_ decree.

If only she knew what that _meant_.

* * *

It was a foolish little thing. Insignificant, seeming.

After their first night together, basking in the aftermath of their fairly wild first union, the two had lay together, mulling over the moments beforehand.

So, standard 'couple just got done fucking' stuff.

It was then, during the ensuing conversation, that he'd spoke an Oath.

" _Wherever you are,_ _ **when**_ _ever you are.  
If you need me, just say so.  
And I'll come running."_

She flushed at the decree but also laughed it off. What he was saying was impossible, even for someone like him, who could do some confusing gravitational fuckery to move himself at a much faster pace than most people.

She found that ability interesting, his _bursting_ skill, as he called it. A light coating of some kind of anti-resistance field, combined with a propelling _burst_ of force.

But he'd kept to his words. Swearing by them. He was, after all, a man of his word. His word was his law was his bond.

She didn't believe but she humored him.

And now…

Seeing him standing in front of her. Seeing him suddenly _there_ at her call. Seeing him _obliterate_ every known law of space and physics she was aware of.

It shouldn't have been possible. He was unconscious. Feared to be dead. Buried under an untold level of collapsed building after getting hit _in the face_ with a literal bitch-slap of _lightning_ from an impossibly created demon of stone and spark. Alma couldn't feel him, the presence in her mind that after their first meeting always meant he was he and he was alive.

She could feel it even when he slept, sometimes seeing his dreams, seeing memories, flickers of time and fragments of fantasy. But this, he was made _silent_ to her.

And were any to ask her she would claim even as he stood before Medea he was _still_ silent to Alma's senses.

But yet he was still here. Looking if anything, only a little ruffled.

Standing tall.

Standing strong.

Standing _silent_.

She already trusted him.

She already _loved_ him.

But it was this. This one, _final_ thing. That pushed Medea Selene Wolfe into the same category of Mariko Ann Kusumi.

She now, fully, _wholly_ , **believed** in him.

The same _faith_ , the same **belief** , that Marie already held.

He was always her guide. Her best friend. Her lover.

She gave him the title, due to respect. She called him her Lord, because of his station of being able to navigate the ebbs and flows of Chaos itself.

But it was now. On this very moment of a once-thought foolish promise _kept_.

Now?

He is truly become her _**Master**_.

This…was the event of which he mused. This was the moment that led to the future she foresaw.

It was this act. This…reality defying, logic obliterating, _impossible_ act.

He was unconscious. He was buried under at least three feet of stone and rubble and metal and dust.

And yet he was still now _in front of her_.

That shouldn't have been possible. It shouldn't have been doable. It shouldn't be _real_.

But it was.

It was right in front of her face.

This was the sign. This was her proof.

That he could be believed in. That she could put her _faith_ in him.

He'd saved her once already, but in the process shattered her faith. She believed in his skills. His ability. His knowledge.

But not _him_.

And now she did.

Because he was _here_.

Not for Kate.

Not for Marie.

Not for _Aranea_.

Not even for **Alma.**

But for _her_.

He answered, _her_.

He stands before, _her_.

" _ **My student. My Oracle."**_

A Bulwark against the writhing screams. A shield against the roaring hate.

Her lover.

Her Master.

Her _best friend_.

And truly now.

Her **Lord**.

" _For what is a Lord but one who defends his People?"_

* * *

As if affronted by the return of the one it had removed so early into the conflict, everyone's attention was drawn back to the buzzing shock snake as it loosed a garbled, crackling screech of a sound from a maw that should have produced none.

It was akin to the squealing of rusted metal lay under the noise of crackling speech through a broken speaker harmonized with a fizzing buzz of the call of thousands of bolts racing from an overworked transformer.

And then its 'body' began to glow. A glowing pulsing charge climbing up its winding length, peaking at where a mouth would be were it an actual creature, before exploding outwards in a rushing angry hum of crackling blue light.

Directly, at Medea, Mariko, and _Seth._

Reacting in an instant yet still too slow, Marie's wings began to flap, as she tried to throw her weight backwards to drag Medea out of the line of fire but…

She was too slow.

Her reflexively closing eyes – awaiting the pain that would accompany her end – did nothing to stem the brilliance of her oncoming death.

" _Caja…"_

…

What was that?

It sounded like Medea's voice but…

…

Why was it so _clear_ …?

" _ **Negación."**_

* * *

Everyone else saw the beam. The twisted mockery of _exactly_ what Katie had done only a few minutes prior. The Dov Qo Rein, the **Lightning Dragon's Roar**. It copied and spat the same powerful beam that had overloaded its own defensive electromagnetic shield. Twisted to an attempt to _erase_ that which stood before it.

Not Alma, the one that many would believe to be the greatest threat to its existence.

But _Seth_.

Once again, it prioritized _killing Seth_ over everything else. It had never truly acted the animal shape it had taken, everyone involved in the current conflict having quickly learned it displayed almost human level intelligence and reactions. And now, it just furthered that.

But nobody could understand _why_.

…not yet at least.

But still. They watched, horrified, frozen in place, as the beam roared down upon the three, just as fast as it did when Katie launched her own.

" _Caja…"_

And yet…

They still heard it.

Heard _her_.

Clear as day.

Clearer, than day, actually. Almost…both distant and right next to their ears.

As if not merely hearing her with their ears but also their _hearts_ , their minds their very _souls_.

An unearthly echo…almost…wistful. Reverent.

 _Loving._

 **Faithful.**

" _ **Negación."**_

Two words.

Just two words.

The beam…it wasn't stopped.

It wasn't halted.

It wasn't defended nor redirected nor splintered.

It was **negated**.

All light and color and noise just _ended_.

As if it was never there to begin with.

The stone and gravel were still heated from its strength. Still glowing white-hot, steaming in the midday sun.

But the charge in the air was gone. The light was gone. The power was **gone**.

Even the _Kaijuu_ seemed to stare in abject _shock_.

* * *

…she'd seen it.

It was brief. Very brief. As quick as a speck of dust one's eyes happened to track at just the right instant as it fluttered by. Something so quick that it would cause most to dismiss it as a trick of the light.

But she _saw_ it.

For a split second, the world _tilted_.

And Alma Wade, caught sight of something **darker than black**.

Before the light was _gone_.

* * *

Slowly, she stood. Marie's arms slipping from her shoulders, the half-asian stumbling backward and falling to her rear. Poor Marie's legs had temporarily forgotten how to leg.

But Medea stood.

"Master."

One word was all she spoke. And Seth responded.

Not a word spoken from him, body moving silent like _death_ like _nothingness_ , he approached her.

Turning his back to the monster that had practically killed him. As if it meant _nothing_.

Gently, she lowered her head, as he slipped behind her. Her arms reached up as he lifted the hem of her top up. With a gentle pull, her shirt had been removed, and a shrug of her hips had him loosening her skirt, where another had it dropping to just above the ground.

Suspended by _something_ that was aligned with her will, but not of her.

Just as softly, she stepped both out of the pooled skirt as well as her boots, leaving her socks within.

What she was doing made no sense to any but her…and apparently Seth, whom had quietly reached down, gathered the objects and…

… _vanished_.

He was there one second, gone the next and then suddenly back in the _next instant_.

Those who knew him and his powers, save Medea herself, were _baffled_. What was going on? He'd never displayed any sort of teleportation before and suddenly he's done it _thrice_ now!

But their attention was drawn back to Medea, as the woman stood clad in her black lace lingerie.

Again, you couldn't get that girl out of black lace if you paid her a small fortune.

She rolled her shoulders and neck, before reaching up and pulling the small ribbon she was using to keep her hair in its ponytail, out. The hand holding said ribbon – forest green with yet more black lace as trimming on its edges – lazily reached over, depositing it into Seth's waiting hand. She proceeded then, to gather her hair up, lifting it as once again Seth slipped behind her.

Silently, gently, he wrapped the ribbon around her neck, tying it into a loose bow. As he stepped back around she turned to him, left hand reaching up to cup his face, before she leaned upwards and planted a strong but gentle kiss upon his lips.

* * *

The world _tilted_ once again.

Only this was _different_.

She was being made to behold _hundreds_ of visions all at once. Flickering images of snippets of time that seemed so scattered and disjointed.

All of them of Medea Wolfe.

A black business coat over a white top, dark blue tie around her neck, black pencil skirt, black pantyhose, black heeled boots, hair tied up in a high ponytail.

Twilight blue halter bikini top. Grey sandals. Straw yellow sunhat with a red ribbon. Sky blue rimmed sunglasses. Hair held loose, falling in waves.

Midnight purple gothic lolita style dress. Black lace trim along the skirt. Dangling celtic cross inside a knotted trinity. Dark blue eye shadow. Hair fanned out, as if fluttering like a halo of sky.

 _ **Her nude body covered in glowing red symbols, as if painted by expert hand in blood itself.**_

And then suddenly it stopped.

* * *

She pulled away from him gently.

He was _here_.

Her lover.

Her Master.

He was her **Lord.**

And _she_?

She was his **Oracle**.

She had seen the _future_.

And what she sees…

Is **absolute.**

" **Me wa Hoshi o mite…"**

* * *

"I want you to come up with an Aria for me."

Those were the words she spoke to him, one day, out of nowhere.

Still in school, still young, still before the night the two of them would entwine their timelines together fully; Medea reached out to him for help.

As she would repeatedly more, later on.

" _Maybe an Aria would help?"_

" _A what?"_

" _An Aria. Like an incantation, or catchprase."_

" _And what exactly would that do?"_

" _An Aria is a Self-hypnosis technique. Something spoken or thought to direct one's focus to the task at hand."_

" _A delusion then."_

" _Something like that, yeah."_

" _And how exactly would that help me?"_

" _Your problem right now is you keep losing yourself in your visions, right?"_

"… _yes."_

" _Well…if your problem is you keep being thrown adrift in the Sea of Time, then an Aria will help anchor you in place."_

"That's a kind of…really personal thing. Something best created on your own. You sure you want me to make one for you?"

She'd nodded. "I've never given much thought into fantasy works. While you…I've seen some of your writings. You take spell creation to the next level. _How_ you haven't played a DM yet I have no idea."

He'd shrugged. "Personal experience makes all my ideas way too OP for a low-level character. I'm better off writing a boss encounter or something."

"Hmph. Or something indeed. Regardless…you know me well enough by now."

He'd shaken his head. "Dee, Arias aren't always static. Especially ones made personal. As a person changes and evolves, so too can an Aria. If I were to make one for you, that's it, that's that. If you were to evolve beyond the parameters of the Aria, it wouldn't have as much, if any effect. Hell it could even have an opposing effect."

"How so?"

"It's a self-hypnosis technique, right? A General Aria, like a spell incantation chant, could be used by anyone who can wrap their minds around it. Something like 'let beating heart give rise to the cry of annihilation' could be invoked by anyone who thought of a spell that had a pulse-like effect. Like a series of shockwaves that went 'thump, thump, thump' or a blast of condensed force or air that struck multiple times to the beat of a heart. That's not _personal_ that's general. Anyone could do it."

"And you're saying that personal ones are…what, more specific?"

"Very much so. The one I tend to reference the most is Archer's UBW chant."

"The who's what?"

He'd rolled his eyes…then spoke.

" **I am the Bone of my Sword.  
Steel is my Body, as Fire is my Blood.  
I have Created, over a Thousand Blades.  
Unknown to Death, nor known to Life.  
Have withstood Pain, to make many Weapons.  
Yet these Hands, will never hold Anything.  
So as I Pray.  
Unlimited, Blade Works."**

Medea had frozen in place. The words, meaningless in actuality, struck a chord within her. There was a part of her that cried out, that reached and grasped, as if to make those words real, to make them solid.

It wouldn't be until years later, that she would look back at that moment, and realize, she was feeling the _belief_ in his words.

"What…what does…any of that mean…?"

"It is a summation of the totality of his existence. Each line is a fragment of what it means to be Archer Emiya. The poem, if one can call it that, speaks of what his very meaning of being is. He is a sword. Forged in hell, defined by steel. Capable of instantly summoning anything he can classify as 'weapon', with a focus on things that are closest to 'sword'. Nobody knew of him in life, yet he has not actually truly died, as he still exists. He threw away everything he was, to chase an ideal that betrayed him. And in the process, everything he cherished was lost to him."

"Then…what…?"

"That chant, being the summary of his life, was made after his death. Yet since he still existed, as a Heroic Spirit, and Counter Guardian, he was still aware of himself. That chant, allows him to focus his energies in turning his 'inner world' outward, creating what's known as an Innate Bounded Field, or Reality Marble. An enclosed space that reflects the mentality of the wielder. Thing is, only the most broken of beings, or things that arent classified as 'normal' can house one. Beings that are detached from the natural order of things. But anyway. That's an example of a personal Aria."

"And that's why you don't want to make one for me."

"I mean I _could_ I'm just saying it might not work forever."

"Do it then."

She wanted this.

"And if I'm wrong?"

"I trust you…Master."

It had taken a few months. Revision after revision after _revision_. He'd asked her all sorts of personal questions, invasive ones, things that she – at the time at least – had been embarrassed to answer.

But answer she did.

…and eventually…

He'd forged her Anchor.

" _For when you're Lost, and I am for some reason unable to be reached."_

"… _why's it in Japanese?"_

" _It was either that or Hymmnos."_

" _Why either?"_

" _Same reason why the entire spell list in Hogwarts is friggin latin."_

" _Style?"_

" _N…hmm. Yes and no. Mostly cause it's a foreign language thus making it by nature of NOT being your common tongue, it holds more Authority."_

" _Meaning…"_

" _You're not always saying parts of the damn thing in common speech."_

" _That's important?"_

" _It helps better focus the mind. You think in English. But this is something supposed to anchor you. So it has to be obvious. Like a big shiny red button."_

" _And its in another language so its made all the more distinctive."_

" _Exactly. So that way every part of you knows, you're doing something Big."_

* * *

" **Me wa Hoshi o mite.**

 **Hea ga Sora, chishio ga Toki.**

 **Eien no Nami towa mite.**

 **Kesshite zenshin ni.**

 **Kesshite tome ni.**

 **Kanojo ga odayaka no te wa Tasogare no Umi to oru.**

 **Mugen no Nagare inai odotte.**

 **Makotoni, kanojo-me ga kirei no Hoshi Teru."**

* * *

 _ **Initiating determination of local timespace.**_

Her eyes fluttered closed.

 _ **Analyzing collective information. Processing internal compilations. Processing external compilations.**_

Should someone have been trying to peer into her mind at that very instant, they would have probably died. Thousands upon thousands of years of information was suddenly flowing into the young woman's brain, analyzed, logged, and kept or discarded based on criteria that even she did not fully understand.

 _ **Overclocking Oracle Drive system. Temporal variance interference field compiled. Determining limitation parameters.**_

But if one was capable of managing to not have their brain fried by the weight of a fragment of World History, one would see almost a bird's eye view of the plot of land that the mall's ruins stood upon.

And then they'd probably vomit at the rapidly shifting colors and images as their brain tried to keep up with everything going on.

 _ **Determination complete. Area limits defined.**_

But again, if one were to manage to survive _that_ , they would promptly shit themselves in _absolute terror_.

 _ **Target data confirmed. Origin point verified. Initiating combat protocol code: M.E.A. Estimated combat time confirmed.**_

Because it would dawn upon them, that this human girl.

 _ **Let us tell a story of unending death…**_

This woman not even three decades in history…

 _ **And herald in the end of an era.**_

Had peered beyond the veil of nothingness, the very boundary between life and the void…

 _ **Battle routine, set.**_

And managed to gain _absolute control over time itself._

 _ **Execute.**_

* * *

Her eyes snapped open as Seth stood next to her.

Softly, her arms rose to just in front of her chest, hands positioned as if holding something.

The world _tilted_.

And suddenly she was holding a small device. Rectangular in shape, a small screen, and a few buttons. Arranged in a circle, the buttons had inscriptions of symbols upon them. Not that anyone could see it.

But if they could, they'd be wondering why the hell she was suddenly fiddling with an MP3 player of all things.

She pushed a few buttons, nodded her head, gave a soft, yet _terrifying_ grin, and flicked it over her shoulder…where it shuddered and vanished.

And then suddenly, appearing behind the crouching, huddled together demolition crew, formed a series of gigantic speakers.

However, it was _Mariko_ that had noticed that the device, _and_ the speakers seemed to flicker into existence like a static-laden image becoming defined. They weren't just suddenly _there_ , but more appeared in a small burst of visible white noise. Like watching a repeating glitchy gif image of an object being thrown, only for it and the world around it to twist and morph in a pixilated view.

Which then fixed itself only with something that wasn't there before, being there.

But nobody was prepared for the sound blasting from the speakers.

 **(BGM: Ar Tonelico Qoga – EXEC_Z)**

 _ **~Rrha ki gagis exec gyen hymmnos Z  
Rrha quel ra clemezen en manafeeze…ha-!~**_

Words that meant effectively _nothing_ to anyone suddenly filled the air. And when they ended, a rapid poppy techno beat rang out.

And then Medea took a step forward.

* * *

The Kaijuu reared back, 'body' sparking wildly. Multiple chunks of stone and metal rose, then were hurtled at the stoic form of Seth.

 **Four vehicles along the lot.  
Multiple explosions and crashing stone.  
Their owners would never return.**

Yet it wasn't _just_ Seth that responded. Medea's arms rose from their sides. A flicker of air and suddenly no less than four different cars had appeared alongside the two of them. Seth was mirroring her movements, and a wild lash of her right hand forward from the outside in, sent one of the four, a bright red hot-rod, flying into the path of some of the rubble.

A twist of his wrist, and the hot-rod exploded, the concussive force crumbling some of the weaker stones. Another lash, this time of her left arm, and a small jeep crashed into another group. A twirl on his heel and the minivan was sent next, followed by an overhead right arm swing launching a green sedan.

The multitude of cracks and crunches followed by booming explosions had halted the initial salvo sent by the Kaijuu, to it and everyone's surprise.

Medea flung out her right arm, sweeping it across her chest. Seth copied the action in time with her movement, and the world _tilted_ once again.

 **The sound of multiple buzzing saws.  
Freshly upturned dirt beneath their feet.  
A logging truck with fallen trees.**

Alma gaped and then realized _they were heading right for her_!

She gave a small shriek of surprise and vanished in a loud rip of broken space.

A bright red truck with an elongated bed _covered_ in logs had appeared suddenly, rolling along the parking lot in her direction. Not seconds after it appeared, the cords binding its payload had snapped, and the many logs, at least ten of them, had lifted into the air. Medea's legs bent, as if she intended to jump.

But it wasn't _her_ that leapt.

She made the motions, and got a few inches off the ground, _suspended in mid air_ , but it was Seth that had actually taken to the air. The logs, the size of fairly large trees, not only had lifted on their own volition, but began spinning rapidly, at a pace that such size shouldn't be possible. A loud **WHUUP-WHUUP-WHUUP** sound pummeled the air as they rotated like helicopter blades.

And then the first suddenly halted, right as Seth's leap had apexed. Medea's right leg pulled back, and the two kicked out as one, the log suddenly rocketing towards the Kaijuu. Four fairly large chunks of stone and plaster rose to meet it, a loud **CRACK** heralding the sound of not just the stone but also the log itself bursting apart. However, a flung out right hand sent a second, and an overhead heel drop sent a third.

The next two had also crashed into hastily rose barriers, the fourth that was launched by the flick of left wrist was smashed aside by a chunk of marble statue...but it was the fifth, launched like a javelin, that smashed into the Kaijuu proper. A chunk of metal and glass was smashed off of its left side, as the sixth was grabbed like an oversized baseball bat and smashed into the same spot from the left.

The log shattered, but so did more of its stone 'hide'.

A flash of light and a crack of thunder had the seventh log blown apart into flaming embers and burning splinters, but the eighth was cracked over the Kaijuu's 'head', as the ninth smashed aside a second chunk of statue.

The tenth however, had been enveloped in a hazy distortion of light. Both its edges had been sheared down into razor sharp points, and it was sent hurtling through the air where it pierced into something within the left side of the Kaijuu.

Alma's eyes widened as suddenly the world _twisted_ once again, and she was treated to the sight of a time-locked lightning-stone-snake.

 **A crackling golden-blue line reaching underground.  
Two large glowing points along its body.  
A punctured generator.**

"It…has weak points…?" The psychic muttered to herself in question.

"Alma?" Came the querying voice of Becket, whom Alma had unconsciously warped to.

"I…" she shook her head. "I think they just _won_."

* * *

The beast loosed a shriek-roar that caused everyone save Seth and Medea to flinch and cover their ears. Its body crumbled as it did so, parts of it collapsing to the ground with the loud sound of falling stone. However, before the dust could settle, flashes of light and the humming crackle of exposed currents resounded. A low rumble and the stone spark snake was risen again.

But much _smaller_.

What was once a winding beast of two-and-a-half-stories was a shrunken mess of a monster only the size of maybe one and a half houses tall.

Effectively, where once it could have maybe snaked itself around about half the Empire State Building, it was now barely taller than the White House.

But the _noise_ it was emitting!

If the thing could form words it would be cursing in whatever native language it held. As it was, the rapid screeching and garbled crackling roars sounded like curses from some weird hell dimension where everything spoke in high-pitched whines.

A bolt of electricity lashed out along the ground and gave rise to a giant clump of burning stone and pieces of walkways and metal chairs. The configuration began rotating, quickly picking up speed and generating a shrill whistling noise before it was launched with a loud **KLUNK** towards Seth.

Medea rose her right hand, fingers lightly spread and arced. A crackle of something **empty** flickered between Seth's fingers, as the world once again _tilted_.

Everyone's sight was taken from them for a half second, as suddenly a sphere of something **darker than black** had come to rest in the cup of his palm.

" _ **Cero."**_

Gently speaking the word, the sound of the song playing through the still mysteriously appeared speakers dimmed, that her voice could be heard over the foreign lyrics.

She flicked her wrist casually, and the small light-denying orb went flying towards the giant mish-mash of crackling pain.

And upon contact, everyone _gaped_ as the small sphere shape **devoured** the massive bundle of broken building.

In actuality, the sphere of absolute nonexistence touched the semi-sphere of stone and metal and plastic and twisted glass; penetrating to the exact center of the mashed up mass, and _inverted_. The process, it would be assumed later, opened up some kind of miniature black hole that simply sucked in everything in a small radius around the 'cero' and then collapsed it upon itself.

Another screech-roar, and multiple giant masses appeared.

Along with a series of smaller ones, launched during the interim of the formation of the large.

Medea's head bobbed as she twisted and contorted her body in various directions, flicking out her wrists and flinging her arms. As she did, Seth was evading and ducking under and around the smaller projectiles being launched by the Kaijuu, while launching 'ceros' from his hands, to consume/destroy the larger.

To everyone else, it looked like Medea had been dancing in place, spinning and fluttering like a ballerina while crashes and cracks of stone on asphalt took place. After what seemed like an eternity of dodging, the Kaijuu crackled again, giving another shriek-roar as this time _hundreds_ of smaller chunks rose into the air around it.

But yet again…the world _tilted_.

 **Multiple trucks in the distance.  
A series of people climbing giant wooden poles.  
A bundle of long black wires.**

Medea swept her hand along the air. A sizzling pop.

The swirling whirlwind of many stones and chunks of railing and pipes and broken doors fired off at a rapid pace like the barrel of a chaingun.

She stood her ground, hopping forward and wildly swinging her right arm.

And in his hand, was a series of threaded chords wound together.

The very power lines that Katie had tapped into only minutes before, were being lashed about like a _freaking whip_.

The loud heavy sound of air being shunted aside was accompanied by the crumbling booms of stone being smashed, wood being splintered. The screeching groan of metal being pummeled resounded through the air as the two flung their arm out, the giant whip lashing and swinging and twirling like a long thread of blackened pain.

Not a single shot made it past him, the air becoming so thick with movement that it looked almost as if a literal dome of bent space was being created by the speed of the makeshift whip.

The last few had clumped together, as if to try to puncture the rapid defense.

And yet it too was stopped, as they had spun in place, kicking off the ground and revolving like a rotary cylinder, the sound of air being bitchslapped echoing just before impact.

The **WHUUMP-WHUUMP-WHUUMP-WHUT-** _ **KRACK**_ of the faux-whip would remain in their memories for years to come, as the last stone was _pulverized_.

 **The loud noise of construction.  
The ringing tings of hammer meeting nail.  
An angled spire of metal attached to a rotating machine.**

The world _tilted_ once more. As the Kaijuu had reared back, seeming to prepare for another ill-fated assault, a wave of noise erupted to its right. Its 'head' shifted to the location of the sudden appearance of a crane, only for Medea to kick off the ground, pointed towards it.

As Seth reached the base of the crane, Medea's arms reached out over her head, wherein Seth leapt to the tip and proceeded to **lift the damn thing off the ground.**

"FUCK ME!" screamed Aranea, absolutely _gobsmacked_ at seeing what must have been at least a couple hundred _tons_ , be lifted without any effort at all. Only to be brought down on the head of an already impossible to describe creature that should _not_ exist.

The Kaijuu seemed to be stunned (and rightly so), as its head drooped to the side, and many of its stone pieces crumbled off of it.

And the world _tilted_ yet again.

 **A giant beast of stone and metal.  
Sparking crackles of discharged electricity.  
The foolish man charged in his truck.**

 ***HUURRRT-HUUUUUUUUUUURT***

To their absolute shock, the crane faded out of existence, as a _very_ familiar scene played out before them.

The exact tanker truck that Harold Mason had driven to try to give Alma an extra weapon against the Kaijuu, had appeared. And just like before, it was barreling towards the monster with reckless abandon.

Only _this time_ , when it lifted off the ground, it did so while picking up speed. It was like if someone strapped a rocket to its bed. The tanker tore through the air, horn blaring away as it slammed into the open side of the Kaijuu.

 ***HUUURRRT-HUUUUUUUUURRRRrrrr-KTHOOOM***

The Kaijuu _screamed_.

The sound of not only metal on stone on glass but a _bone-chilling_ shriek of hundreds of voices crying out all at once. The stone beast crumbled once again, collapsing into a cloud of dust and broken gravel.

And as it did so, the song wound down.

 _ **~chsee spiritum xl exec waath!~**_

They all watched, waiting, as Seth returned to Medea's side.

But…she didn't relax. Instead, she…stretched? The two rose their arms over their heads, looking as if trying to reach the stars. A mildly discomforting sounding series of pops and soft cracks came from Medea's spine and shoulders.

And then the cloud _shuddered_.

And a _different_ song spun up.

 **(BGM: Sonic Generations – Boss Battle: Big Arms)**

 **A massacre of terrible proportions.  
Dying screams of blooded innocents.  
The whining groan of stressed metal.**

The cloud was _torn away_.

As now stood the broken, dented remains of a broken **REV6 Powered Armor**.

Crackles of electricity leapt from its broken left arm socket, wrapping around stone and torn metal alike, forming an oversized claw.

And then it _leapt_.

Only for Seth and Medea to do the same.

* * *

The shockwave threw them all off their feet. Seth's bare right fist collided with the stone and spark claw of the Armor, the impact generating a force that cratered the ground beneath the strike point. Only the makeshift claw buckled, and Medea spun on her foot driving a side kick to empty space. But _Seth's_ right leg on the other hand, kicked the armor away with a loud **PTHUNK.**

The Armor flipped as it slammed into the ground, before its still functioning right gun arm smashed the pavement beneath it, the dented shape managing to evade the earth-shattering ground heel slam Seth brought down upon it. It stumbled as it wildly swung its stone-spark-claw arm at him, only for it to be viciously bat aside.

Medea's hair flailed wildly as she rapidly thrust her fists out one after another, at a speed that made her appear to be nothing more than a blur.

A repeated **PRUTHUTHUTHUTHUTHUT** echoed before a final **PTUNK** sent the Armor flying again. Only this time, a distortion of twisted air appeared around it, as it was suddenly pulled back.

" _ **BANSHŌ TEN'IN!"**_

The _roar_ from Medea's throat made everyone flinch. The echoing sound of a loud wave of distorted space impacting solid object made them cringe. As the screeching roar of a hundred voices crying in pain tore through their ears, the Armor was launched again, only this time with the power of two opposing directional forces colliding. The ground splintered on impact, the armor's claw hand shattering away in crumbled stones.

The song seemed to reach a crescendo, as suddenly Seth appeared where the Armor had landed, and delivered a punishing strike to the top of the piloted machine, followed by Medea kicking off the ground into a rising knee, chased by a double fisted overhead knuckle drop. The Armor's left leg shattered in a spray of wires and metal, as it buckled to the ground, only to be lifted up by a rising backwards kick, which was then followed up with a spinning heel strike.

It wasn't so much sent flying as it was twisted in place, where suddenly Seth had appeared in a blur of movement, pulling forward before slamming back in what Marie would later claim was a picture perfect 'tetsuzanko' maneuver – a sharp, violent shoulder lean that smashed into the target with obscene force.

The strike knocked the Armor off balance where it fell to its back. Medea struck out, and Seth grabbed its leg, viciously pulling the machine towards him, a distortion of air around his fist brought down and shattered the right leg as well. The momentum of the tug however, flipped the armored torso up towards him, where a single punt kick sent it flying into the air straight up with a loud **KLUNK**.

Knees bent, and the ground _collapsed_ as he rocketed into the air, bypassing the Armor in less than a second.

It was now, that Medea, somehow _levitating_ a few feet off the ground where she had been mirroring Seth's movements, curled into a ball, before extending her limbs as far as they could go. As she did so, a literal wave of _black_ ripped from the air around Seth's body.

" _ **Mugen Dai-kaigan!"**_

Streaks of denied light began gathering around him.

" _ **Kokūjin no Me!"**_

She twirled once, flinging her right hand into the air, a single finger pointed to the heavens.

" _ **Gran!"**_

The streaks gathered at the tip of his finger, coalescing into a massive spheroid of…something that made **everyone** feel a weave of _absolute terror_. As if the certainty of their mortality had just been made manifest.

" _ **Rey!"**_

And yet…the sphere shrunk. And shrunk. And _shrunk_. Until it was no larger than the size of a baseball.

But the feeling of **you do not exist** persisted.

" _ **CERO!"**_

And the two threw down, the streak of something that was black-yet-not-black, the sphere-that-was-not-sphere connected to the armor.

And with a final horrific screech…

The voices had been silenced.

* * *

The quiet unnerved them.

Even as they all stood from the…well the best way to put it would be 'empty detonation', it was dead silent.

No falling rubble, no sound of wind or air, not even distant noises of city life.

Until finally the crunch of gravel.

Seth, still appearing blank and empty, had returned to Medea's side. She gave a soft sigh, taking in his appearance.

It was his physical body that gave away the signs of injury. He stood, tall, unshaken, unmoving like an everlasting mountain, but his physical appearance was what gave away his true state.

The dried blood on his right temple, the torn state of his clothing, the bruises and cuts on his arms and face.

She reached up and brushed the dust out of his eyebrows before smiling gently at him.

"I'll see you soon, Master. Please…rest well."

A soft…almost imperceptible nod.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and then released it.

" **Conflict resolved."**

And right before their eyes, he collapsed into her waiting arms, as if a puppet whose strings had just been cut.

* * *

 _Her eyes had beheld the stars._

She'd confessed to him that before her powers came in, she'd wanted to become an astronaut. And that even after, she'd wished she could look up at the sky and see the history of the stars. What wonders had they seen before their explosive ending? How many of the glittering lights were already dead?

 _Her hair was the sky, her blood of time._

She'd always favored the color blue. It was why she dyed it that way. She wore the sea, the sky, the air on her head. True, she enjoyed her black lace (it just felt so GOOD!) but it was the blue of the world that she loved the most.

 _Forever, she'd watch eternity's waves._

He'd likened the flow of time to a sea. Shifting, churning, but ever vast and expansive. Those who were born within it, bound to it, could navigate it in any direction they chose. She saw Absolutes. Futures, pasts, even presents. Things that would be almost impossible to change.

 _Never moving forward._

But her future, as she'd known it, had been defined. She was to die.

Her end was predetermined. She was not to see even her eighteenth year. She was going to perish at the hands of a foolish man with all too easy access to a weapon he was never supposed to be allowed to attain.

And then she _wasn't._

 _Never standing still._

He had come, and put an end to her ending. Put a stop to her stopping point. He allowed her to continue beyond the point of no return for her. She had refused growth for the longest time, expecting to die young. And then he came and changed that.

Allowing her to attempt to begin moving again.

 _Her gentle hands thread the Twilight Sea._

Even before humanity came up with the concept of time, the planets, the galaxies, the stars themselves continued to move. And she could track those movements. If all of humanity were a celestial body, she was the one who could lead them to their truths.

…or lead them astray.

 _Dancing about through the flow of Infinity._

She saw **absolutes**. Things that _were_. Including the end. She could see, from the point of ending, backwards. From the point of beginning, forwards. And everything in between. If infinity was an endless, ever expanding pathway through existence, then she had the right, the power, the _authority_ to touch it, direct it, become one with it.

It was her purpose.

It was her meaning.

It was her _wish_.

And now, as she gently ran her fingers through his hair…she realized that it had finally become her **truth**.

 _Truly, her eyes beheld the most beautiful stars._


	15. Meetings

"How is she?"

The room was sparse. A few monitors displaying scrolling information, one being a repeating jagged line; situated on top of a metal tower of interconnected platforms suspended by rolling wheels. The walls painted white, florescent lights overhead.

And a bed, with a single occupant.

A pair of people in white long-coats, resembling those worn by lab technicians or doctors, conversed quietly in a corner, one gesturing to the monitors while the other scribbled on a wooden clipboard.

The voice, however, came from a man, wearing a loosely hanging tie but otherwise garbed in standard business attire. The query, was posed to a brunette woman, young, barely out of her twenties, whom was sitting with the bed's occupant. She shook her head.

"Still unresponsive. All her vitals are stable, as is her heartbeat, but she just won't wake."

"Not even a bit?"

"We think she might have twitched once, but…"

"And no sign of anything else?"

"Whatever happened two days ago seems to have ended, but still, no change."

The man nodded softly. "If it was connected to Alma then it should have stopped by now. Its been quiet since then. Almost _too_ quiet."

"Did we ever figure out what caused that power outage?"

He nodded again. "Yes. Something was making a _considerable_ drain on the city's energy grid. Whatever it was, cut power to almost the whole city, even backup generators that were connected to main lines were being drained. And its been suppressed, plus our reputation is in the tank with the US Government let alone Military, but…"

"Director?"

"Well, I've got a couple personal contacts, old college buddies. They said that word is that there was some supernatural event at the mall where we'd sent out some Replicas a few weeks ago. Something big. Details were sparse but it was apparently _powerful_."

"It's been dealt with?"

"Allegedly. Information is both scarce and being kept heavily under wraps. My contacts told me they couldn't look into it any further without being found suspicious."

The woman sighed.

"You think Alma was involved?"

"She was _definitely_ involved. But to what extent…"

She nodded, before reaching over and gently stroking the long caramel streaked black locks of the sleeper.

"She'll wake up eventually Evie."

"I don't doubt that. But the question is whether or not she'll still be she."

* * *

The sky was dark with angry grey clouds. Heavy, huge droplets crashed to the ground with loud splatters in a curtain of falling rain. Each orb of condensed moisture descending with the force of a full powered finger flick. The air was thick with humidity and _power_ , as lightning flashed rapidly, scars of bright blue-white glare cutting across the sky, heralding bone shuddering _walls_ of thunder.

The ground was cracked and split open, buildings with chunks of sides taken out of them, broken masses of brick and plaster. The landscape was littered with fallen trees and broken branches, twisted hunks of metal and glass and rubber wheels popped and deflated, cracked rims and shattered doors being the remnants of cars and vans and busses.

A constant buzzing hum of fizzling air and heat assaulted the ears, flittering between the deafening booms of thunder.

She was drenched. She was cold. She was paralyzed with fear.

She'd seen it. Ten stories tall, winding and weaving in the shape of a stone snake. Body alight with crackles of lightning and power and heat and _rage_.

And there _he_ was.

Stood before it.

She called out to him, seeing his head turn.

But the moment his eyes left the _demon_ , it struck.

A Maw of jagged teeth. Formed of broken, sharpened stone and metal and glass. It opened wide, wider than wide, longer than long, able to fit an entire building inside it should it have wished.

And as his eyes met hers, it snatched him up.

She screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed. She raged, streaks running down her face. Tears? Droplets of the heavy rain? Blood?

She watched as _nothing_ she did mattered. Her rage, her hate, her _fear_. It was nothing to the _monster that ate her Hope_.

A flash of light, a shock of blue hair.

 **A scorch on the pavement.**

A blur of stone, a shrill squawk.

 **A smattering of blood and feathers on a broken wall.**

A resounding boom, a crash of metal.

 **A single, camo patterned leg from beneath a broken car.**

One by one, she watched everyone she'd come to care about, _erased_ by the **demon** before her.

As she could do nothing to stop it.

And finally, it turned its gaze to her.

Kneeling. Sobbing. _Begging_.

Its Maw opened again. A brilliant, terrifying light building within.

A loud, garbled, crackling roar.

 **A flash of light. A wave of heat.**

* * *

Her eyes snapped open. Everything was blurry, colors not entirely comprehended. Something was blocking her vision.

She reached up, wiping aside her hair, matted to her face through sweat. Her arms were red from the pressure of her forehead upon them. Her back hurt, her butt ached, her heart was pounding, breath coming in shuddering gasps.

Something was flakey on her cheeks, under her eyes.

Dried tears, then.

She looked around groggily. A low sigh.

The nightmares continued.

Twisted distortions of the memory of the day the connection was severed. The day all of her world-ending power meant _nothing_.

She sighed again.

A glance to her left showed the digital clock on her microwave. **8:59**

She gave a huff of air. Two hours this time. Considering she'd been only getting half an hour at a time for the last twelve…

 _Better than nothing I guess…_

She looked a fright. Hair caked with sweat, eyes with rings around them not of shadow's make, body limp and exhausted…

It was like her first year, all over again.

She was losing herself. Losing control.

But…

 _Its an hour early…_

She had a meeting to get to.

 _I just hope I don't splatter anyone…_

Even if she'd been terrified to be around people.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 14 -** _ **Meetings**_

It only took a single glance.

Alma gave a soft grunt, leading into a slow, shaky sigh.

 _She's really good with her hands…_

It had only taken one look.

"Lean into me."

She did without question. The feeling of soft skin on her back was compounded by the sensation of a pair of smaller hands working to her front. She twitched a little, resisting the urge to moan.

Just one flick of the eyes.

" _Strip."_

"… _what…?"_

" _I said strip."_

"… _why…"_

" _You need a shower."_

"…"

" _Master isn't here right now to take care of you. Thus, as his Servant, that falls on me to do so in his stead. I won't pretend to begin to understand what it is you're dealing with but I know depression when I see it. You aren't taking care of yourself, so someone has to do it for you. Strip."_

And Mariko Ann Kusumi, had taken control of her life.

Just like _he_ would have.

 _Like Master like Servant I guess._

There was no romance or lust or anything inherently _sexual_ about what Marie was doing. But it was someone _else_ touching her, at a time where she _needed_ to be touched, even if she was afraid to be.

And for _good fucking reason_.

* * *

Their shower complete, two days worth of sweat and grime cleaned off of the psychic, Marie had sat her down in a single chair in the living room, while the three awaited their coming guests.

If you were to ask her, she would describe the feeling like an itchy, almost burning sensation.

Alma would later on, spend an entire _night_ of her own volition, repaying the not-tengu, for the slightly reddened, super-sensitive almost sunburn-like marks left on the Servant's torso.

It was irritating, it hurt ever so slightly, and it made her arms tingle in unpleasant ways.

But Marie continued to comb the Psychic's hair, even as the lack of connection was unfolding what little control over her field she had.

It was obvious to all three of them, that Alma _needed_ him to be stable in more senses of the word than one. Her powers were slowly going ever so slightly out of control, a constant weak field of _erasure_ being around the young woman, expanding and strengthening as time passed.

Somehow, he had become both a beacon, and an anchor for her excess power. And it was becoming very apparent that the connection was _far more_ in her favor than his.

* * *

They had arrived not long ago.

Showing up as separate groups of two, two and three. It was a little crowded, but they made it work.

Betters and Jin as one. Becket and Stokes, and Stokes as three.

And Aranea and Jacob as the other two.

Betters, Jin, the Stokes' and Becket on the military side. Betters and Jin, as they were compiling a report of the events of two days prior. They needed at least verbal statements from the civilians involved. Becket and Kiera as they were part of the team that tried and technically failed to stop whatever strange supernatural creature had emerged. And Katelyn as she had ended up becoming pivotal to defeating it.

Aranea and Jacob, because they both had personal history with the young Rodin, as well as being the two "highest ups" in Jacob's little company.

Why meet at Selh'teus' home then?

Because it was a neutral ground, safe from prying eyes and listening ears.

That, and Alma was already refusing to be around _people_ , and Marie refused to leave her Owner's side.

"And you still can't get in the door?"

"I could, but I don't need Yurine trying to claw my eyes out."

Even if she couldn't actually get in his room.

He was surprisingly unharmed mostly. A few bruises, a small cut over his right eyebrow that healed within hours, some gashes in his clothes, were all the damage done to him.

Other than that, he was just unconscious. So it was decided, to just bring him home and let him rest.

That was two days ago.

And the second they had placed him on his bed, Yurine had demanded everyone leave her and her human alone.

They hadn't seen her since that door closed.

But that wasn't the only issue. The air was…tense. Thick with something. And it wasn't Alma's psychic field. There was something else, something making even the usually unflappable Jin uncomfortable.

Alma was curled up, giving only one-word answers in the half hour they'd been talking. Knees pulled to her chest, hair ever so slightly fluttering around her.

But it was Marie that gave the sigh and stood.

"I am not Him."

That got their attention.

"I am but a Servant. His tool. His object to do with as he will."

Jacob gave a very displeased frown at that.

"But as he is not here to speak, I am the _closest_ to him. Hear me, as I speak for him, in his voice, in his _name_."

Ok now that got Jacob to start blinking.

"I have no Authority here. But I am here still, in his Name. These people, are under His protection. This is His home, as it is My home at His will. Until He wakes, I speak for Him. I speak not in Demand nor Declaration, but in Request. As bearer of the **Wings of Blackened Faith** , I Ask you hold your judgment till he wakes, and leave us in peace."

The air…felt _different._

"And should any of these people Betray Him, before he returns, I, his Servant; His Raven; His **Black Wings** , will _carve their eyes from their skulls and feast on their thoughts._ "

It was then, that _something_ responded.

As the black and white tuxedo cat, Shiki, got upon all fours from its lounging position, stared Marie right in the eyes, and loosed a long, low _yowl_.

" **Mrrooooooouuuw."**

And the _weight_ in the air faded away.

Where Shiki then proceeded to engage drill mode, before licking her paw and curling back up, returning to rest.

"…carve our eyes and feast on our thoughts?" Katie grumbled.

Marie gave a nervous chuckle. "I had to make _some_ kind of retributive promise."

"Fucking crow." Marie just shrugged and sat back down.

"…what the fuck was that?" Betters asked, both confused _and_ concerned.

It literally wasn't until Alma had _totally lost her shit_ two days prior did he have any real personal _direct_ experience with the supernatural. He was 'den mother', the man who compiled information and fed it to the feet on the ground.

Unexpectedly for him, it was Jin that answered.

"This place is situated on an old Native burial ground. A tribe whose name was lost to time, but Seth suggested some remnants of their spirits remained. When I drove him and Alma back here a few weeks ago he spoke this…chant, and I can safely say after he did so it felt like the air got clearer."

"It's an Aria." Came the soft voice of Alma, slightly muffled by her knees.

Betters just nodded, remembering the young man speaking of such, in their last meeting. It was Medea that picked up.

"He speaks it to those he expects to see frequently. Its like giving someone a password to a guest account. This land is his, he owns it, he is its caretaker. Those remnant spirits may or may not be able to actually _do_ anything, but as he cares for their graves, they care for him."

"Wait…but aren't _you_ his Oracle?" Stokes queried.

"I…am. But it wasn't…until recently that…"

"She didn't have _faith_." Marie said, plainly.

Medea bowed her head. "yes."

"Uhh…what?" Stokes was confused. As she should be.

"The short of it is my own personal experiences and powers kept me from having the level of…reverent faith in his being, that Mariko has."

Marie stared straight ahead, eyes locked on Shiki's form.

"It's come to my understanding that reading his book and having his words as my only source of solace and comfort during my most important formative years has made me subconsciously model myself and my way of thinking after his. He Was. And he was my Everything. My All and my Only, when the world either despised me, or ignored me. He was all I had. And all that I am, is His."

Aranea made to speak when Medea followed up.

"It's fairly similar to someone's belief in God. Its _faith_ , at its purest form. A…kind of understanding of totality that goes beyond human comprehension. It becomes instinct. Not desire or even truly will, but…" she trailed off and shrugged.

"Marie has apparently held it for years, and his acceptance of her with no strings attached just made it all the more real. It gave it background."

"Like understanding the sky is blue, but only by drinking the sea, by touching the flower, by swimming in gatorade, do you really know what _blue_ is."

It was Alma, that finished the thought. And Medea nodded.

"A combination of belief, backed by information, and sealed by experience. Something that goes from academic knowledge, to understanding, to instinct. An Absolution on its own. Something that cannot be shaken not so much because He can do no wrong, but because you understand that _he_ knows what Wrong is, and you both know that there would be Reason, as to why he would be doing Wrong."

"That's a little crazy…" Stokes countered.

"It's like Love." Katie cut in.

"eh?"

"You do…stupid shit. Crazy shit. Shit you normally wouldn't, when you're in love. Right? For it. Make bad calls, make good calls, make calls period where you wouldn't normally, right? The…purest form of love is when you don't know _why_ , or _what_ , you just _know_ that you Love. When someone asks you why, you can only answer 'them'. Not just the good parts or the parts you find appealing, but them. All of them." She said.

And all three other girls nodded.

"And the three of you are like that with him?" Betters pushed for clarification.

"Happily." Responded Marie.

"I'm getting there." Was Medea.

And Alma…

"The second I held his hand."

"…you're not doing too well, are you, sweetie?" Aranea questioned softly. And Alma rapidly shook her head.

"The moment he touched my hand, it was _quiet_." She was staring at nothing.

"My whole life since my powers appeared, has been loud. Screaming…roaring ranting raving raging hammering loudness. Barely any sound for myself no thoughts no control just demands and yells and hate and fear and pain. Even that _bubble_ wasn't good enough I could still hear I could still feel it was just distorted and twisted but not even muffled just _painful_. I couldn't be near anyone they'd just splat and the screams and the fear and the anger and the noise was just too much but then I met _him_ and he grabbed my hand and I was _terrified_ because I'd been _so good_ for _so long_ and now someone was going to go splat because _I was an idiot and left the house_ but he **didn't** and it was _**quiet**_ but now its _gone_ and everything's loud and I-

 _ **Shut up and move over, idiot.**_

They watched as suddenly she cut off. Her eyes widened almost comically, before she _leapt_ out of the armchair as if she was burnt, whirling around lightning quick, to stare at…

…nothing?

 _ **Or you could do that, whatever.**_

 _They_ , saw nothing. But Alma?

Her eyes were filled with the sight of a young girl with a head of pink, shaggy, _messy_ hair.

Who looked about as bad as _she_ felt.

* * *

"…Al-

"You…look like shit."

She'd suddenly started talking to…empty space?

 _ **Tch…look who's talking.**_

It was true though. The Phantom Girl looked _terrible_. Hair a mess, sticking up in odd places. Face sunken and pale. The very feeling she was giving off was…sickly and weak.

"Are you alright?"

The question came from two sources. The first, Jin, a slightly fearful, confused look in her eyes.

The second, Alma herself.

Ignoring Jin entirely.

 _ **I don't know. Getting there, I guess.**_

"What happened?"

The Girl shrugged weakly.

 _ **Fuck if I know. He-We were hit by the…snake thing and then just…nothing.**_

"I can't…I can't feel him anymore. He's not dead, but I…the connection's broken."

Who was she talking to?

…and why did Medea feel like she could see…fluttering…maroon…cloth…?

 _ **The fuck? Weird. Even now?**_

Alma nodded frantically. "Yes, even now. You're here but…he's…"

 _ **You can't reconnect at all?**_

"I've been trying for days."

 _ **Did you try repeating the original circumstances?**_

"…he's been unconscious the whole time so…no…I haven't."

The Girl shrugged again. A little stronger this time.

 _ **Give it a shot I guess.**_

"The thing…its…its dead. We-

 _ **Stop.**_

"What?"

 _ **Look, there's no point in you telling me. I'll learn when he does.**_

"What do you mean?"

 _ **I know what he knows. He doesn't know what I know. So there's no point in saying it twice.**_

Alma's eyes narrowed slightly. She was about to push further but was cut off.

 _ **And tell whoever the fuck that is to stop trying to Look at me.**_

Alma blinked at the sheer annoyance in the Girl's voice. "What do you-

 _ **I am not supposed to be Awake. But I Am. Nobody is supposed to know I exist yet. But you do. I'm guessing its because of your link with him. But anyone else trying to See me, is just going to kill themselves. Make them stop.**_

It was almost like…a fluttering growl on the wind. A shimmer of…the color of dried blood. And…

"Medea, stop."

The blue haired woman's eyes blinked rapidly.

Before she winced and swiped her upper lip.

…where a small trail of blood was left on her finger.

"…what?"

"You can't…" Alma couldn't get the words out. Whatever the Phantom Girl was doing that stopped her from talking about Her, was keeping her from finishing her sentence.

So, she figured out a workaround.

"You were trying to look _too far_ beyond Nothing."

"You have been speaking to someone that _isn't there_."

"…wait what?"

 _ **Oh for fuck's sake idiot have you been talking out loud this whole time?!**_

"Oh…I was?"

An annoyed, almost _animalistic_ growl.

 _ **I tell you I'm not supposed to exist and what does she do? She fucking provides a damn Anchor!**_

"I-wha-I'm just doing what I normally do whenever you show up! What the hell does that mean anyway?!"

 _ **UUUUUGHHH! By vocalizing everything you've alerted anyone around you that SOMETHING is in the general direction of where I am, that they cannot perceive. Whoever the hell was trying to Look at me, has an ability to perceive things that are beyond the normal scope of human senses! You've basically been holding a giant neon sign with the words 'hey! Look over here!' on it, pointed at ME!**_

"O-oh…uhh…o-oops?"

 _ **Oops? OOPS! For the love of FUCK how stupid can you ge-**_

She froze. And suddenly turned her head to the right and slightly up. Looking in a _very particular_ direction.

 _ **Oh.**_

And then _vanished_.

Alma twitched. "…oh…? Oh. What oh? Don't just cut off and then go 'oh' and then go poof! Goddammit…does this every freaking time…"

And then suddenly Shiki got up.

"Mrrm."

Alma turned to the cat, who was looking _past_ her.

"Shiki…?"

She sat, perched, watching. Waiting.

"Mrr-mrr-mrre-ee-eemrrrr."

And in trotted Yurine, tail raised and flicking about, before the greyish furred feline turned her head to look behind her.

"Yuri-wait."

"huuuuuuh."

That…was _not_ a cat.

"…Master?" Raven surprised everyone by _vaulting_ over her seat, rushing towards the empty archway separating the main hallway from the living room.

And when she returned, shuffling slowly next to her, was a very _exhausted_ looking Seth.

"…oh…that's…people."

* * *

"Ok…did we lose anyone…?"

He'd been sat down, looking like _hell_ warmed over. His hair was a mess, his eyes were half lidded, and there was a palpable sense of _ick_ around him.

But he was awake. And to most? That's all that mattered.

"No. There were some close calls but no."

"Good…also…when'd you get involved, bucket-man?"

Katie gave a soft snort while Becket rolled his eyes.

"Alma flipped her shit right after the power went out so what little I got from her told us what was going on."

Seth nodded, tiredly.

"Right…you good?" The question was directed to the psychic.

Who immediately shook her head.

"…no…"

"…eh?"

"I…I still can't feel you."

"…"

… _EH?!_

"Eh?"

She shook her head harder. "When the…the thing…the…"

"Kaijuu." Medea supplied gently.

"That. When it hit you it just…" She shrugged, helplessly. "You were gone."

Seth blinked, gazing at Alma through _weary_ , half-lidded eyes.

"And you…haven't reconnected…whyyyy…?"

"I've been _trying_ since before you even woke up but it's like even though you're sitting right in front of me you're not even _there_!"

Some of the windows rattled.

Seth actually _slowly_ leaned over to peer past Alma at the nearest window. Upon seeing…whatever the hell it was he was trying to see, he nodded to himself.

 _Well, she's woken her Force._

"…ideas?"

She shook her head but then nodded. "I've been…suggested…to repeat the initial circumstances."

He tilted his head at her. And then the memory oozed into his mind. "Oh…when we first held hands."

She nodded. He nodded slowly back. "Arright…have at it then."

And then held said hand out.

Eagerly, she snatched it up, and _pushed._

 **SCREEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEE**

" **GAH FUCK!** "

 ***FZZZCH-KTHOONK***

A sudden, _searing_ agony ripped through his skull, jolting up from his fingertips, roaring through his arm until it jammed piercing claws of twisting pain into his very mind itself. The air curled and distorted in the space around his flesh, rippling and morphing, unconscious willpower converting into physical force.

To _smash_ into Alma Wade, throwing her bodily, and _heavily_ away from him.

 ***KTASH***

Where she crashed _through_ the coffee table with a shrill scream of terror.

Shouts and yells resounded as everyone got to their feet. In an instant, Marie had shot up and somehow there was a _sword_ in her hands, feet planted, eyes narrowed, back straight.

" _TITSHITTING BITCHNIPPLES THAT FUCKING HURT_!" Meanwhile, Seth was cursing the pain, heavily flinging his arm up and down trying to return the feeling to it. " _I'M NOT EVEN WEARING SOCKS THIS TIME THE FUCK?!_ "

That…random statement put a pause on the tension in the room.

He was still flinging his arm.

"Gah! Square peg round hole much? Jesus H. Christ."

" **Mmrrrrrrrroooooooooorrrrrr."**

A low, very _unpleasant_ sound came from the tuxedo cat that had suddenly sat ramrod straight. Its pupils dilated, its body began to hunch forward, a _very obvious glare_ on its face, directed at the wood and glass covered psychic, who was stuck in between the sensation of considerable back pain, and absolute terror at the _very obvious rejection_ she just experienced.

" **Enough Shiki!"**

There was an…unexpected _weight_ to his words. Spoken almost at a _growling decibel_. The cat in question immediately turned its head to face him. Her ears flattened out, her body became limp.

And she promptly plopped to her side, scooting and kicking, until she was on her back in a surprising display of submission.

"…rrreeerrr…"

The Dragon had roared. The **King** had spoken.

She would obey, for he was her Home.

Slowly, they watched as he got up. Fingers wiggling and twitching, arm still being shaken, he had an annoyed look on his face, though not one directed at anywhere but his own hand. He wrenched his eyes shut, violently shaking his head as if trying to dislodge something from his mind.

"Repeating initial circumstances huh?" he grumbled, then sighed. The pain had faded but an unpleasant tingling, much like when one's limbs 'fall asleep' had persisted.

"Well if I remember right, this is pretty much it. You, flat on your ass, my arm feeling like it was on fire, surrounded by people, and neither of us knowing what the fuck."

She just looked at him, barely seeing him through a curtain of hair.

"Which means the next step was…"

He reached his hand out, and just like before, Alma's replied.

And _just_ like before, it was an instant before her brain caught up to what she was doing.

"N-no, wai-

 ***FZZT***

The Tree.

A twilight sky.

The sound of a flowing river. Closer than before.

Morning? Evening? The time didn't matter, it was between where night and day exchanged their places but neither cared which direction.

A distant tower. Glittering lights around it, streams of color bouncing between them. It was still far away, but it felt… _closer_ somehow.

Calm.

Broken.

" _ **Welcome back."**_

She whirled around. There were two people next to her tree.

" _ **That looked like it sucked. I give you a 5.5 on the landing."**_

Both female. One, the first speaker, was a fair skinned blonde wearing an emerald green off-the-shoulder dress with vertical slits at the thighs. She wore no shoes of any kind, and had shimmering seafoam green eyes, and a soft, gentle smile.

" _ **Well we can hardly fault her display, she wasn't exactly expecting flight."**_

The second speaker, rougher sounding, more casual, had paler skin, and twin-colored black and blood red hair tied into two braded pigtails. Appearing as the complete opposite of the woman next to her, she wore a black leather jacket over a dark red tank-top bearing a yin-yang symbol. A checkered blood and black skirt, black thigh-high socks and similarly black ruffled boots, along with a black spiked choker and similarly spiked wristbands finished her outfit.

" _ **If she'd at least done a backflip for style I could have bumped it up to a 7."**_

The blonde rolled her eyes, grinning.

" _ **Hush you."**_

The punk girl shrugged.

" _ **I'm just sayin'…"**_

The blonde turned back to Alma.

" _ **We won't keep you."**_

The punk woman sighed.

" _ **Just next time try not to run face first into the backdoor."**_

 ***hhhhhsssssssHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhh***

And suddenly she found herself pulled to her feet.

She was confused, disoriented. The hand detached from hers as Seth took a step back to give her space.

"ehh…needed a new table anyway…" he muttered, taking note of the absolute mess that had once been his coffee table.

She saw splinters of wood and shards of glass. A heavy scar on the floor from her landing.

All she could think was to run.

She clenched her fists and _twisted._

 ***CHKKKCH***

…she was still there. A jolt of fear raced through her veins. She _grabbed_.

"Alma."

 ***CHKKK** _ **SHEEEK**_ **CHH***

…she was _still_ there! She loosed a sharp gasp, _terror_ flooding her body. Her eyes were frantic as they locked onto his.

Not judging, not admonishing.

But she was afraid. She'd _hurt_ him. And that reflected back on her.

She _never_ wanted to hurt him. And she'd done just that.

Her eyes wrenched shut, her whole body tensed. Her hair fluttered under her _immense_ power.

The space around her form shimmered and morphed, the air curling and writhing like a summer haze. A mist of broken _time_ and _altered reality_ swirled along her torso like a blanket of _terror and pain_.

 ***HWOORAAARMMM** _ **KHHHCHKKKFRRZZZRRRKCHH***_

She exhaled sharply, panting breaths coming out like gasping gulps for air.

She was _still there_.

Panic and terror filled her, eyes wide and wild as she barely made him out through the billowing curtain that had become her hair.

" _ **Silly girl. This space is**_ _ **his**_ _ **."**_

The voice of the blonde woman filled her mind.

And suddenly she felt a tug.

It was soft. It was gentle.

And it was pulling her whole body in his direction.

But the past few days of constant nightmares and lack of sleep had taken their toll. Her mental state had been compromised.

She _hurt_ him.

She was afraid. She was sad. She was _a mess_.

She struggled against the phantom grip, feet pushing backward but her body sliding towards his. She shook her head wildly, **squeezing**.

 ***FWOAR** _ **CHKKKHH***_

And even with all of her will thrown into the world…

All of her fear and worry and pain and suffering, launched in a desperate bid to _run away_ …

It was nothing.

Because she was _his_.

And had already promised to never not _be by his side_.

" _ **Even if you don't believe you deserve to be."**_

* * *

The tears ran down her face unimpeded. She realized where she was.

She couldn't flee. She couldn't run. She couldn't escape.

Because there was _nowhere for her to go_.

A choked sob.

Her body went limp.

"ah shit."

 ***THUD***

He…didn't expect her to just _stop resisting_ like that. He'd been pulling a little more each second, building the _reverse push_ in strength slowly. When she just… _gave up_ like that, the resistance vanished before he had re-tuned his field to stop being so strong. So…

She slammed bodily into him and they both fell back towards the couch.

Which then began _severely_ tilting backwards due to the force.

 _Alright that is a HARD NOPE._

His legs flailed comically as he tried to delay the inevitable.

And then he just focused on the couch and _pulled_.

They all watched as suddenly the listing seat reversed its movement and returned to its proper position with a ground shaking **THUNK**.

He sat there, completely still.

"…oooohkayyy…now that we've got the monthly dose of ACME-level shenan-i-ganery squared away…" he muttered to himself.

"Alllmaaa?"

She stiffened in his arms.

Her face was buried in the crook of his neck.

Slow, hesitant nod.

He blinked, eyes locking onto the cloud of night under his chin.

"…you in, babe?"

Her arms squeezed around his shoulders. Nails gripping and releasing his back, like a kneading cat.

Slow…slightly less hesitant nod.

"You done trying to skullfuck reality?"

A sharp breath.

Arms shaking.

…slow…slightly hesitant nod.

"…'d be one helluva strap-on…" Aranea absently muttered to herself.

Which due to the shocked silence, was heard by _everyone_.

" _ **Huh…I was about to say that."**_

Alma stiffened again.

A slow nod.

" _ **Oh. You can hear me again sweetie?"**_

Nod.

" _ **Good. Pat her head for me, would you bro?"**_

 _ **On it, coach.**_

And thus he did. Reaching up and running his fingers gently through her hair. She stiffened again, before slowly the tension began to fade.

And as her body relaxed, so did the air in the room. Everyone slowly began to sit back down as Seth continued to stroke the psychic's hair.

Being the second closest to her, and also being rather concerned that he felt _nothing_ from her through that whole exchange, Becket had opened his mouth to speak when suddenly-

" _I'm sorry…I'm sorry Daddy._ "

Wait what?

"Wait what?"

" _ **Wait…what?"**_

… _ **nandato.**_

His hand froze just as it was going to begin another circuit. Those looking at him saw his eyes widen comically, his expression literally _screaming_ a lack of comprehension.

And then the _weird shit_ started.

" _I'm sorry Daddy, I'm sorry!"_

 ***FZZZZKKHHHK***

The very concept of _sight_ for all of them, flickered and faded. As if being in a room with a dying, sputtering light, the world's colors cracked, distorting and shifting.

Seth, however, _felt_ something changing.

The arms were getting _thinner_.

The weight on his lap getting _lighter_.

The hair getting…ok the hair stayed roughly the same length.

But the face in his neck became smaller.

And with a buzzing, fizzing hiss-pop.

… _why am I holding a little girl._

" _I'm sorry Daddy! I swear! I swear I'll be better! I swear! I promise! Please! Please Daddy! Please don't put us back in the bubble! Please!"_

The voice of a _terrified, crying_ _child_ rang through the room. The choking sobs of a _damaged_ _little girl_ dug deep into their hearts. Her body was shuddering, her head shaking, and Seth was _frozen_.

" _ **What in the seven hells of Saturn-**_

" _ **Quiet, Wes."**_

… _break the rock._

And suddenly, he started gently bouncing her.

… _Break the rock._

They all watched his eyes close. They could _see_ his body loosen.

 _Break the Rock._

And gently, his hand went to the back of the little girl's head.

 _ **Break the Rock.**_

And with a soft haze around it, began stroking softly.

* * *

A soft, repeating beep.

A dimly lit room.

A slow, low sigh.

A shaky, whispered voice.

"… _ **Break the Rock…**_ "


	16. Mantra

_Break the Rock._

In his arms, on his lap, was a little girl.

 _Wrestle it._

She'd appeared kind of out of nowhere.

 _One-Two, One-Two._

Before, she'd been a woman. Older, bigger. …but just as sad.

 _Break the Rock._

He didn't understand how she'd suddenly become a child.

 _Wrestle it._

Nor did he understand why she was calling him 'daddy'.

 _One-Two, One-Two._

He had theories. In the thirty seconds since her transformation and his confirmation that; yes, this was happening.

 _Break the Rock._

He'd come up with and discarded about twenty different possible reasons why suddenly she'd become a _child_.

 _Wrestle it._

And about five as to why she suddenly called him _daddy_.

 _One-Two, One-Two._

But in reality, none of that mattered.

 _Wrestle it._

She was still Alma.

 _Three-Four._

She still needed him.

 _Break the Rock._

And so he'd just push forward.

 _Make a Man._

Because he always did.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 15 –** _ **Mantra**_

" _Please Daddy! Please please please please_ _ **please**_ _don't put us back in the bubble! I swear we'll be better I promise please!_ "

" _ **Break the Rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two."**_

Seven voices tickled the back of her head, chanting as one. The words made little sense to her, the rhythm spoken feeling like some kind of spell. But she didn't have time to think on that as She suddenly felt herself bouncing gently. Her eyes were screwed shut, her arms squeezing his chest. She was terrified, she was worried, she was absolutely certain she was going to be shoved back into the Vault.

"hey…" came the soft voice.

" _ **Break the Rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two."**_

"Hey…heyheyheyheyhey."

She sniffled, feeling a pair of hands gently nudging her. No force, no will no _rejection_. Just a gentle suggestion to back up a little.

"Hey c'mon sweetie…I need you to look at me."

" _ **Break the Rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two."**_

" _Please! We'll be better! We-_

"Shhh…ShhShhshhshhshh…It's alright just look at me honey."

Reluctantly, the little girl pulled back. Tears were racing down her cheeks, eyes red and puffy, hair matted to her forehead. Her nose was dripping slightly, her entire stance radiating terror and worry.

" _ **Break the Rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two."**_

Oh so softly, with calming motions he swept his thumbs beneath her eyes, resting his palms on her cheeks.

"Do you _want_ to go back in the bubble?"

Terror gripped her heart as her eyes widened. She violently shook her head.

" _No! NononononoIpromisewe'llbegoodpleasepleaseplease-_

"Shh…it's ok baby it's ok."

She stiffened in his hands. Body rigid.

" _ **Break the Rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two."**_

"You don't want to go back in the bubble, right?"

She was too afraid to speak.

She nodded slowly.

"Then you're _not_ going back in the bubble."

"… _promise…?_ "

The wavering tone pulled at his heart. It spoke of shattered hopes and broken dreams. Of damaged trust.

"Never again."

She lurched forward.

" _ **Break the Rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two."**_

Her hair billowed out as she buried her face in his neck again.

" _Thank you, Daddy! I promise we'll be better! I'm sorry! I promise I'm sorry!_ "

"hey….heyheyheyhey…it's alright. Hey…c'mere."

She pulled back again. Watery blue eyes staring into brown.

And then suddenly he'd pulled her head down to kiss her crown.

" _ **Break the Rock. Wrestle it. One-Two, One-Two."**_

It was almost like the chanting got…

Not so much _louder_ …but…stronger. Denser.

She didn't have time to think about it as his forehead had been pushed to hers.

"You're gonna be alright. I promise."

She weakly nodded. Oh how _tired_ she felt. Her sniffles had weakened, her breathing slowed.

The chanting…felt…not relaxing…but familiar. Calming.

"…break the rock."

Her eyes, which had listed closed, opened slightly. He was still looking at her.

But now…she _felt_ something.

"Wrestle it."

Something in her… _reacted._

" _One…two…one…two…_ "

And slowly, his lips turned into a smile.

"Break the Rock."

"… _Wrestle it…_ "

"One-Two, One-Two."

Her own lips pulled into a smile as well.

" _Break the Rock."_

"Wrestle it."

" _One-_ Two, _One_ -Two."

Neither of them would have been able to explain it. The feeling was like…like becoming a stream. Not swimming. Not drowning. Not even wading. But _being_ a river. Becoming one with its flow, submerged yet afloat.

" _ **Wrestle it. Three-Four."**_

They were…

What passed through them was inexplicable. Just a…serenity of knowledge. A certainty of being.

Fear was purged. Doubt was removed. Disbelief vanquished.

" _ **Break the Rock. Make a Man!"**_

They only had eyes for each other.

Their smiles became mirrors.

"Ahh…Master…?"

They blinked as one, the moment lost upon the sudden reminder that they weren't alone. Together, they turned to the sheepish looking Mariko.

And then blinked again, as they looked around.

At a whole _bunch of things floating_.

"…dafuq?"

Literally everything lighter than a cat was levitating off of the ground. Stationary was fluttering and twirling randomly, pieces of wood and glass gently bobbing in the air, clumps of dust and cat hair suspended off the ground…

And all gently rotating, as if galactic fragments orbiting a star.

" _Did…did_ _ **we**_ _do that…?_ "

Seth was busy staring as Yurine was reaching up and batting at a floating clump of feathers. Sensing his attention being held, the little girl turned her own head, hands still connected to his arms, seeing the grey cat standing on her hind legs, grasping at the clump of feathers just out of reach.

An absent thought had her wanting the poor thing to just catch it, and she stared in amazement as the feathers fluttered back and forth out of their original orbit, before descending just enough for Yurine to give a small hop and yank them to her.

Where she promptly fell over backwards, kicking her hind-feet at the cluster, biting and licking away.

The little girl giggled, watching the cat make a fool of herself, as is a cat's nature.

A gentle hand caressing her cheek drew her back to Seth, who said nothing but gave a wry grin. She smiled brilliantly back, before the wave of exhaustion washed over her tiny body. She shuddered, shaking her head as she suppressed a yawn, but couldn't help but blink tiredly.

"Nap time?"

The gentle query was met with a slow nod. A tug on her arms had her lowering herself back to her original space, face buried in the crook of his neck, arms around his chest, sitting snugly on his lap.

"Have you been eating much?"

She shook her head. " _Mm-mm."_

"Well…how's about when you wake up we get you some food then?"

"… _can I haz cheese burger?_ "

He snorted and gave a soft chuckle, resisting the urge to cackle at the old as _fuck_ meme, in effort to let the girl coast to sleep.

"Yes. You can haz cheese burger."

" _oookaaayyy…"_ came the slurred reply. She snuggled closer and sighed.

" _Goodnight…daddy…"_

He just stroked her head softly. "Sweet dreams, little love."

* * *

It was strange really.

He could tell the exact moment she passed out.

It wasn't when everything dropped to the ground suddenly.

It was actually maybe a good half-minute before that. The feeling of…being a _river_ had faded away. The fluttering, rocking, flowing sensation had petered out like a draining sink.

And _then_ everything fell.

But he ignored that, making sure the little one in his arms wasn't disturbed.

When he was certain she was out like a light, he loosed a very deep sigh.

But before anyone could speak, he did.

"Iiii~have no idea what just happ~eeened…buuut it act-tully happ~eeened and I'm really con-fuuused~" he…mutter-sang to himself.

"Theeere's a little girl slee~ping on my-lap, and she's cal~ling me her father what-the-fuck is my liiiiiife~"

"Shall I get the broom, Sir?"

His head snapped to Mariko, who was looking at him semi-nervously. Not that she was uncomfortable or anything but more she wanted to do _something_ to help center him.

That… _chant_ …felt odd to hear.

"…right. Broken table." He nodded. She returned it, and whirled around to go get the cleaning tool.

"…wait isn't that the broom you tried to-

"We do not _speak_ of such things in this house that are lies and never occurred." He instantly cut Medea off with a very blank tone.

Of course, she just smirked to herself, knowing she'd now properly distracted him from his thoughts.

And that's when Aranea put it all together.

"Wait a sec…Seth…did you try to _fly on a br-_

"I will send you to _Soup._ " He cut her off.

Her head jerked back. She was confused.

"…to…soup?"

"Yes. Soup."

"What…" she blinked rapidly. "What's at Soup?"

"Clothes." Katie responded, cheekily, knowing where this was going.

"Clothes." Was the deadpan echo. "Clothes at Soup?"

"Yes. At Soup." Said Seth.

"Why would I be buying _clothes_ at a Soup store?"

"Because _fuck you._ "

The 'fuck you' was said deadpan by Seth, Katie with a shit eating grin on her face, Medea with a soft smile, and a giggling Marie, whom had returned with the aforementioned broom.

Aranea promptly just sat back and stayed quiet, realizing that there was a joke she was just _not_ getting.

"Alright can someone explain to me what just happened?" Betters cut in, slightly annoyed, very concerned and…dreading the paperwork coming his way.

"The soup part?"

"No, _before_ that."

"Right."

Marie had stood up and dumped the broken glass and wood splinters into a small cardboard box which was remnant from her move into the attic. She'd been trying to figure out how to carry everything at once when suddenly the box lifted on its own. Blinking, she simply grabbed the broom and dustpan she had retrieved and moved to return them to the hall closet when she felt a tugging on her skirt.

Turning, everyone watched as she quietly approached where Seth was sitting.

"Yes, Sir?"

Lifting his left hand from the child's back, he motioned for her to get closer. She did so and he leaned up, gently kissing her cheek and then patting her head. Marie visibly _glowed_ at the silent acknowledgement and bowed.

"Thank you, Sir."

He flicked his hand silently and she giddily turned around, returning to her original task of putting away her cleaning tools.

Unknown to the others save Medea, such quiet exchanges were commonplace ever since she moved in. As such, she had no qualms about leaving the box of broken glass where it was, floating over the larger remains of the mangled coffee table.

She knew he'd keep it floating there until she came back.

Medea, giving a quiet smile, got up from her original seat and gently placed herself next to him. She leaned into his right side, pulling her knees to her chest and getting comfortable as his right arm reflexively curled around her.

He was in 'caretaker mode' and she planned on drinking it in for all it was worth.

The only thing she thought would make this _perfect_ would be a nice cup of hot chocolate. But considering it was summer, and he still needed to be caught up to what happened two days ago, she was content for now.

It was here that Jacob understood that yes, his niece was truly in good hands. Strange as her relationship with the man was, she was _devoted_ to him, and it was quite obvious now, that said devotion was acknowledged, respected, and in some slight way, returned. He'd seen only a few sides of Seth, the reactive action taker, the perverted 'drinking buddy', the random goofball, the silent observer, and two days ago, the _walking natural disaster_.

But it was only today, seeing how he _expertly_ handled the strange little girl, and seeing him make his niece smile like she'd just won the lottery, that he realized he knew _nothing_ about the man.

He was multi-faceted and shockingly enough, _genuine_ with everything he did. And it was that very thing that got him to realize that Marie was going to be just fine.

"I was expecting her to regress at some point."

And now…he'd see the _Voidwalker_.

* * *

It was true. He'd anticipated Alma's stumbling and falling. She'd been making _stellar_ progress in such short a time it was astonishing. It was quite obvious that the foundation was shaky but had been built, she just didn't know how to go further. Taking her powers slowly, making her question them, and herself, had helped repair the broken ground beneath her feet, and gave her a solid footing.

But he knew, both from others, and personally, that _forward_ wasn't the only way.

"Regress?" questioned Jin.

"Trip up. Make a mistake. Do something technically stupid and probably embarrassing. She'd already had something like that happen when she regained her Fire. But I was expecting something…probably loud and angry."

"Well…she _was_ cursing up a storm at the snake-thing." Kiera said.

"Kaijuu." Medea corrected.

"Kaijuu?" Seth asked, head turning to her. The bluenette's own head lifted and their eyes met.

"It fits." She said plainly.

He blinked at her, seeming to think it over.

"Hmm. Yeah…yeah it does. How did you guys-no wait. Lets finish this first."

Medea nodded.

"Anyway. I meant more along the lines of…"

"Give me back my babies, splatter everything in the way, blow up a city?" Jin quipped, dryly.

"Actually yes. Something to set off the lingering Crazy."

"And that's not what happened."

He shook his head. And then began stroking Alma's.

"Not in the slightest. But…going from what she's told me…it fits."

"Shockingly enough, it does. But why _daddy_?"

He rolled his eyes. "Obviously not for the reasons that would be less abnormal."

She grinned, teasingly. "Oh really?"

"Remember what she said? Back at your base. About how she needed someone like me?"

Jin's head tilted as she reached into her memory.

"She needed a guide. A teacher. Someone who was looking to help her for her, figure out how and why." Replied Katie.

Seth gestured towards her and nodded. "For the longest time, she thought she was still that little girl floating in a tank, with the times she was brought out to poot out a child seeming like extremely vivid dreams. She's told me before, that it still sometimes doesn't feel real. That she has to drop into my mind, sit at her tree for a while every now and then, before she can remind herself that she's free."

He gently shrugged, and motioned to the child in his lap.

"This…some part of her is still this little girl. But that part has adjusted to realizing I exist. The Alma we know, wants to sit on my dick, and _scream_. _This_ Alma? She just wants to sit on my **lap** and _be_. She sees the world through the eyes of a damaged child, and what would a child think of an adult that has done nothing but _care_ for them, other than parent?"

"Daddy, because you're the one that did everything hers didn't." Medea punctuated.

He nodded. "Makes sense to me. I just wasn't expecting it like this is all."

"That's one hell of an illusion then." Betters said.

But Seth shook his head. "It's not."

"What?"

"It's not an illusion. She's actually turned herself into a child."

"That's not possible." Kiera countered.

"Of course it is. Remember? She had enough power in the Bad Future to break the fabric of reality. Creatures from her nightmares walked the streets as the sky tore open in blood and thunder. The same course of events happened up till Still Island. She got the power boost, but it got inverted, her focusing on _controlling herself_ over breeding the Bucket."

Becket sighed. He'd never get away from that nickname it seemed.

"She said it herself. She ate an entire timeline. _Literally_. That future is gone, consumed in place of this current present. But that power remains. She's a forty year old reality warper in the body of a twenty year old that is currently sitting on my lap as an eight year old. Her head is probably still so broken that her sense of Identity is still forming. Her power lets her twist space, twist friction, twist _people_. So why not twist _herself_ until she's a child again?"

There was nothing that could be said to that.

"Medea can accurately predict the future. Mariko can teleport and fly through literal black feathered wings that grow from her back. I can manipulate gravitational fields. Katie can direct various intensities of electricity. Alma being able to grasp her own personal memories and submerge herself in such a way that she goes between child and adult? That's pretty friggin tame compared."

He had a point.

"Alright so lets say that all makes sense." Jacob spoke up.

"What the hell was that chant?"

"…chant?"

"Break the rock?" Medea hedged.

"Oh."

He stared off into space.

"…I dunno. I didn't come up with it."

"Where did you get it from then?" She pushed.

"A dream. I dunno maybe a year ago? I don't remember much. Just…some weird…sciencey facility and a lot of bulldozers and people in lab coats and children. A lot of children. And they were all chanting it. I can't explain it, it just felt important. Like they were trying to _create_ something and the children were in control of how fast or slow it'd happen. It was the strongest thing that I remembered."

"Does it _do_ anything?" Medea continued to press.

He shook his head. "No. It's…I use it as a self-reflection tool. It's mine but not _mine_ , y'know?" She frowned but nodded.

"It's yours…but came from something or somewhere that may or may not have been you." She hedged.

"Yeah."

"Alright. What does it mean?"

He sat there, thinking.

"…I think…it's supposed to be about…fixing yourself."

"Explain."

His eyes became unfocused, darting rapidly, looking at nothing at all.

She frowned.

And then took a page from his _book_.

She decided, to take the lead. "Break the Rock."

"…open the lid. Look at the innards. What's wrong? What's missing? What needs to be added?"

"Wrestle it."

"Reach inside. Look at what needs to be done. How did it get to this point? Figure that out."

"One-Two, One-Two."

"Take the steps. One after another. No rushing, no racing. Just walk. One thing at a time."

"Break the Rock."

"The lid is open. But it wasn't just one problem. There's more."

"Wrestle it."

"Gotta reach inside again. Keep feeling around, fumbling in the dark."

"One-Two, One-Two."

"It's a sequence. You fix one problem, only to reveal two more. But those can be fixed too. You just keep going."

"Wrestle it."

"Keep growing. Keep learning. Keep building and destroying. It's a struggle. With yourself. With the world around you. But it needs to be done."

"Three-Four."

"The problems make solutions and sometimes the solutions make problems. But the further you go, the stronger you are."

"Break the Rock."

"Smash your limits. Your weakness. Your fears and worries. You have become _more_."

"Make a Man."

"…you know…who you are. You _are_ who you are. Don't think it. _Know_ it. You are you."

" **So don't worry about trying to be anyone else."**

* * *

"Sometimes, it's very fascinating to see how close the two of you are, Sir."

Marie had returned after depositing the box of broken things in the kitchen to be dealt with later. She'd heard Medea speaking the chant, and Seth breaking it down.

"Whaddya mean Raven?" Jake queried.

"Oh, I guess you didn't see what I saw." Mariko responded.

"Uhh…?" even Seth was a little confused it seemed. The half-japanese girl shook her head, smiling.

"Maybe its just because of how I've _broken_ but from my point of view I saw Medea guiding _you_ , Sir."

Both of the people in question blinked, turning to one another. But Mariko wasn't done.

"It's just been interesting to see how easily the two of you _flow_ around one another. Alma jumps around a lot and tries to both be close but not too smothering, and I've long since known how to get out of the way, but the two of you just…" she trailed off, wiggling her hand while trying to figure out the right words.

"You just seem to not have to think about where the other is."

" _Partners…"_

Heads turned to the child still in Seth's lap. She hadn't woken, but she'd shifted slightly and sleepily muttered the word.

The word that the _Phantom Girl_ had said to her older self, in regards to Medea and Selh'teus.

"That's right. Partners." Marie nodded decisively.

Seth merely blinked and shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much."

Medea frowned slightly, but stayed fairly relaxed. The frown was less negative emotion and more calculative speculation.

"I suppose that explains…a lot…" She mumbled to herself.

"Dee?"

She blinked, tilting her head to gaze at Seth.

"The Kaijuu. How it was destroyed."

"Actually about that." Betters cut in. "I need as much as you can give me on that thing. Might be able to get better allocation of tools if stuff like that is going to show up again."

* * *

And thus, Medea took the lead.

She had seen _everything_. What it was, why it was, and how it was maintained. How the Kaijuu – _"It's spelled K-A-I-J-U-U, by the way."_ – had been created and for what reason it existed.

" _Its origins are surprisingly simple."_

It was, of all things, a conglomerate of concepts. A few individual situations that ended up mixing together to make what was a giant snake-like creature, made of electricity and stone.

" _It was created through the remnant spirits of hundreds of dead people."_

The attack on the mall.

All those lives lost, men, women, children, clone. Their sudden and violent deaths filled that space with echoes of terror and rage. Pain and sorrow and fear and madness all cut off abruptly. But the intensity of those feelings had seeped into the stone, into the very air of the ruined mall itself. Mixed with the remnant psychic fields – weak though they were – of the replica forces that had done the killing; and what was created was a space right out of a horror film.

Hundreds of fragments of emotion, left behind as echoes of fading souls.

" _But it was powered by the City itself."_

It was truly a combination of mundane and supernatural forces. The Kaijuu was formed through the wild emotion collected in that particular space, but it was maintained by actual raw electricity. It had drawn from the city's power grid itself, using the remaining connections through power lines that had not been physically severed, to tap into the city's external generators. When it did so, it caused a massive power fluctuation that cut energy to the whole city.

" _Wait…so why was I able to get that weird feeling before the power died?"_

There was an outlier.

Katie.

She'd felt something _off_. Something she could barely explain or understand, even after her powers suddenly _grew_ against the Kaijuu. It was an early warning, not that she could comprehend it at the time. But the question was _why_ did she sense it?

* * *

"Wait you felt it?" Seth asked.

Katie nodded. "Just before the power went out I thought I felt something…itching at the back of my head. It's hard to explain."

"Her powers evolved during the…confrontation. Twice." Medea said.

"Eh? How so?"

"Uhh…well. You know the **Whirlwind Sprint**?" came Katie.

" _Wuld Nah Kest._ Yes."

"Replace _Wuld Nah_ with **Qo Bah**."

"Wait…you're telling me you did some kind of **Lightning Sprint**?"

Katie shrugged.

"Damn right she did." Suddenly Kiera stepped in. "I was falling from the chopper after that…Kaijuu thing did something to drain it of its power. Fumbled the damn parachute and thought I was going to die. Next thing I know, Katie's turned into a bolt of lightning and catches me and zaps us back to the ground."

The ginger woman just bowed her head, blushing at the _awe_ in Stokes' voice.

" _Daaaaamn._ …wait…Maddy you said _twice_."

Medea nodded.

"Nothing Alma did was working. When Sergeant Becket and the others came in, their chopper did nothing except get turned against them. Aranea had teleported one out and Marie saved the pilot-

" **NANDATO?!"**

" _hrrrmmmm"_

He couldn't help his reaction of absolute shock. Which is why his personal trait of barking something gibberish to illustrate his confusion kicked in. Of course, it was more the Japenese equivalent to "What the fuck" but still. That said, it had disturbed the child in his lap. Thankfully she didn't really wake up, just stirred slightly, before dropping back into deep slumber.

To facilitate this, he'd reflexively begun stroking her hair again, leading her to relax and fall back.

"When the hell did you learn to _teleport_?!" Seth whisper yelled towards Aranea.

Who…looked surprisingly contrite. "I…it's not _exactly_ teleportation…"

"I need to see this."

"There's not enough room?"

He stood up, carrying Alma in his arms. "Backdoor." Medea shot up, and Jake made note of how Marie suddenly became stiff as a board.

"Seth you've been unconscious for days. Didn't you say you nearly tripped down the stairs?" Medea tried to stop him.

"Then _someone_ is going to have to make sure I don't fall."

Immediately, Marie strode the five feet from where she was, to his side. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

It took only a couple minutes for everyone to filter outside. The back yard was fairly large, almost the same area size as the house itself, with a small pathway leading down to the lake.

The lake where Alma was being taught to swim. At least until Seth got a swimming pool set up.

 _Should probably get on that soon._

That said, they were all watching for Aranea.

"Are there specific conditions that need to be filled?"

It was a side of Seth only Medea had truly seen before. He still looked tired, and his appearance was made even the more strange by the sight of the child Alma sleeping cradled in his arms, but he stood… _strong_.

Even Mariko hadn't seen this side of him yet, as it was a further evolution of the side she caught glimpses of when Alma was practicing her flames.

Since she'd gained much control over them, he hadn't needed to take a _directing_ role.

"I…uhh…need to be moving…a little."

"In what manner."

"Like… _moving_. Forward…ish."

He nodded. "Proceed."

It was kind of unnerving.

Not the whole, everyone's watching her, thing. That she was used to. Maybe not doing _this_ but…

Hey when you've got a body like hers, you get used to the stares. Hell you start anticipating them.

And learning which ones need to be… _persuaded_ to stop.

But he was…muter than she was used to. She knew he could be serious – saving Karen from the broken wrecking ball chain on his first day was proof of that – but this was…not something she'd ever encountered. Unconsciously her gaze settled on Mariko, who gave a soft nod.

There was no 'sense of kinship' between the two. Not yet at least. Their interactions had been limited only to when Marie suddenly ripped her top off to save Harry, and Aranea making her a makeshift breast-holster, after all. But Aranea was in uncharted waters…and Marie was in this case, a seasoned Captain.

So she took her cues and let go.

She tensed her legs, bent her knees and…

Vanished.

Only to appear at the top of a nearby tree. To which she hopped down and landed.

"There. I-

"Sway, to and fro, _sway_." He suddenly cut her off.

But while the moment had everyone else confused, _Marie_ knew exactly what that statement meant.

" _Yes Sir!_ "

In a quick movement, Mariko had removed her shirt, once again _not_ wearing any kind of brassiere.

The Kaijuu's appearance rather messed with the girls' shopping plans, after all.

Seconds later, her wings had been spread and flapped once.

"Above the roof. Safety measure."

"Yes, Sir." She nodded, flapping away and ascended to the position he'd indicated.

His face was stony, as he absently stroked Alma's hair. It had become a reflex at this point, an unconscious motion. His head turned off to the side. A folding chair came flying towards him, before it slowed to a halt at his left side.

"Track and catch." He said to Aranea.

Mildly affronted, the woman was going to retort when suddenly the chair shot up to the sky. A low 'tch' emerged from her, and she tensed and vanished again.

But he wasn't watching _her_.

"…motherfucker." He muttered.

A soft **thunk** and Aranea had landed.

Holding the folding chair.

"The hell was-

"Were you ever married?"

He'd cut her off, and she blanched. "What? No!"

"How well can you handle a rod?"

Well _that_ wasn't suggestive at all.

She growled. "You'd _know_ if you'd just-

"Mother _fucker_."

He said again. He'd not let her get a word in edgewise.

"What the _hell_ is my life?"

"What the hell are you-

"I've got a Time Mage as a partner, am the mind hub for a black haired Dark Phoenix, have a Tengu as my maid, am friends with the _Dragonborn_ and now it turns out I've been working with a fucking _DRG_ this whole time."

"…a _what_?" came Becket.

"A _DRG_!"

"Dragoon. He means Dragoon." Medea sighed. "Master, are you certain?"

"You don't _teleport_ , Aranea. You're right." He turned to Medea, jerking his head towards Aranea. "She _jumps_."

Medea blinked. "…huh. I suppose you're right about that. That _is_ fairly similar."

"No. _Exact._ I didn't _main_ DRG but I got Drakesbane and that's a damn _timesink_. I know _jumping_ when I see it. Look at her. That thing went up a hundred feet and she landed without a scratch on her, and didn't even make the ground break under her feet. Nimble landing from that high up, at _those_ speeds, belongs only to Lancer-Class entities. She's a friggin _DRG_."

"Wait…like the Final Fantasy class?" Katie cut in.

" _Exactly_ like them. High speed burst movement in an ascending direction? Safe landing from equal height while not compromising the surface? I can get about half that height she just did with a _burst_ but the ground is going to crack and if I'm on dirt it'll look like a damn explosion went off more often than not. _She_ did it with just a tense of her legs and barely any indication she'd left the ground till she got back. Give that woman a spear and imagine what could happen if she got that high and dropped down on the back of a dragon."

"She'd pierce right through its scales as long as the spear was sturdy enough." Katie responded, fairly awed.

He nodded. "If not harpooning right through the damn things wings. Or tail. Or claws."

"And you're figuring this…why?" Jin asked.

"She didn't repeat the process to return. If it was teleporting, even based in momentum, she'd have vanished again to land. She just _landed_."

Jin nodded. "Hence the term 'jumping'."

Seth shook his head. "You're right but…EX-Ranked Lancers can perform lateral movements without the ascension. They've mastered the concept of 'jumping' to the point where its almost no different from teleporting."

* * *

After that, they'd returned inside. Aranea had learned a little more about her abilities, and explained that she gained them after the surgery she had done. They'd messed something up in a positive manner and suddenly her legs were super strong, extremely sensitive, and she'd learned she could 'jump'.

"Alright so Aranea jumped, Marie saved the pilot, then what?"

Medea took up again, explaining how she managed to _see_ the makeup of the Kaijuu.

" _There were two generators concealed within the rubble that made up its body."_

Those generators were what was containing the flow of its electricity. But the problem was it was impossible to reach them. The electromagnetic field was keeping all attacks at bay, and anything that might have bypassed it, was blocked by its conscious will.

And then he learned that Katie had _roared_.

" _My throat only just today stopped hurting."_

" _No shit!"_

The beam had ripped through the air and crushed the Kaijuu's barrier.

But Medea…had problems.

" _I must have pushed myself too far. I started seeing…things."_

It had been horrible.

She didn't just _see_ what happened, she _lived_ it.

Every death in that mall, on the day it happened. The last moments of hundreds of people. She lived through all of it. She was made terrified. She was made broken.

And she called for him.

" _Do you remember the promise you made to me?"_

" _Yeah. You call, and I'll be there."_

"… _you were."_

"… _I don't-_

" _I know. It's because it_ _ **wasn't you**_ _."_

* * *

"You have to understand the situation."

Selh'teus was confused. Very much so. To the point he'd stopped absently stroking Alma's hair. Medea had not been leaning on him, instead, standing in front of him. Not so much a power-play as it was for her own comfort. She was quickly becoming stressed, thinking of how to explain…what happened.

"You are, other than Alma, the only person I know that has any sort of combat-useful ability. Against any supernatural force, you would be my go-to, for treating or otherwise dealing with the threat."

She'd begun pacing.

"Marie's abilities are grounded in support, my own barely even reaching utility level, and Alma has only one _controlled_ offensive capability at the moment and that would be useless against something made of stone."

She sighed.

"When you were taken out, we had no _time_ to react because Alma had very quickly gone ballistic. We know _now_ it was because when you got struck, somehow, the connection between the two of you was blocked or removed or whatever. Actually I have a theory on that…"

"Elaborate." He said, quietly.

"I think it was that the Kaijuu was formed by the lingering rage and hate of over a hundred people dead, that blocked your connection. It kept you unconscious through sheer spiritual suppression."

"it's possible."

"Anyway. Alma had gone nuts, but you were out. And we were scared. My powers can see Time but…I don't control it. Despite the length of my hair I'm no Umbra Witch."

Most of them didn't get the reference. Which was fine, it was for _his_ benefit anyway.

"But I must have pushed too hard or looked too far or _something_ because I was suddenly _living_ the last moments of everyone that had died in the attack. And it…"

"She was shaking, Sir." Clarified Marie. "Her body was trying to vibrate itself apart. Her nose was bleeding and she was practically catatonic."

"…and then she screamed." Aranea added. To which Marie nodded.

"She called for you, Sir. I've maybe watched three horror movies in my life and Medea's scream was _spine-chilling._ "

"Even Alma snapped out of it." Becket added.

"And then that cage of rubble you were in just exploded." Finished Jacob.

"And **My Master** was before me." Whispered Medea.

"…but I don't remember any of that."

"Like I said…it wasn't _you_."

"What does that even _mean_?"

"…I think…when I pushed too far…like Katelyn...my powers evolved. Or something. I was drowning in fear and hate and terror and blood and pain that wasn't mine. And I was afraid. And I grabbed _my_ fear. And I pushed it into the memory of your promise. And I _focused_ on that promise. And I think…I think I made it _real_."

"…wait…" He sat up straighter, coming to a realization.

And Medea nodded. "Yes. …I think I **Observed** it all."

"Fucking hell you turned yourself into an _Observer_?"

"Ok hold on a minute." Aranea cut in. "What is that and why does it _taste_ important?"

Medea and Seth both looked at the wanna-be Dragoon. Then they turned to each other. Medea shrugged and Seth frowned. Scrunching his nose, the recovering Voidwalker mulled over the question.

"hmm…how do I put it…"

Medea stayed silent. She knew some of the more _complex_ ways to explain the concept of 'Observers', but knew most of the terminology would likely fly right over the heads of those who haven't…devoured the essence that was her Master.

Seth's head bobbed to and fro as he slightly bounced in his seat. Alma gave a small groan of irritation at the jarring movement, causing him to stop abruptly and begin stroking her hair again. A soft sigh of content and the girl's body losing its building tension became the result.

He was getting good at that, it seemed.

"ok I got it." He finally spoke. "You ever…misplace something? Car keys, wallet, bookmark, remote, shit like that, right? And you're looking and looking and _looking_. You check the usual places, the unusual places, the downright _impossible_ places like the freezer or under the stove. And you never find it."

Nods all around. Mariko and Medea remaining quiet, knowing where he was going with it.

"But you misplaced it while you're with someone. And they see you, ass in the air looking under the damn bathroom sink, and ask 'dafuq'. And you tell them you're missing something. And then they go 'it's right there.' And then you look and its…in a spot you've looked at _three times already_. And you _know_ you looked there, because you distinctly remember that was the _first, third and sixth_ place you checked. But it wasn't there, until that other person pointed it out."

Again, nods.

" _That_ is an Observer. Now, can any of you tell me what an Observer actually does, based on that?"

He'd gone back into teacher mode.

The others looked at each other, and then Aranea hedged a guess.

"Tells the truth?"

"Not exactly. Anyone else?"

"Decrees reality?" from Jin, taking a more supernatural guess.

"Closer, but not quite."

"Defines what Is." Came Katie.

"Mmm. All three of you are wrong. But at the same time, not _entirely_ wrong."

"Hell's that supposed to mean?" came Jake.

"Because they all covered one aspect of what an Observer does, but failed to capture the true nature."

"…huh?"

Seth grinned. "Aranea was right in that an Observer tells truth. The thing is, its not _the_ truth, but _a_ truth. Miss Sun-Kwon was right in that an Observer in a sense, defines what is real. But just like the truth-telling, its not _the_ reality, but _a_ reality. And Katie was the closest with her guess of defining what Is."

He took a breath.

"What an Observer does, is _beholds_ something. They _witness_ something. They classify it as not merely real, but also truth, as well as acknowledging that it Is. When someone who is an Observer does this, reality _twists_ to fit their view. Just like before, the keys didn't show up until someone else, now made aware of the situation, _Observed_ them being in that specific location. An Observer is a conceptual being that exists sideways from normal timespace, that can _see_ that which is abnormal or almost non-existent, and go 'hey that's a thing.' And suddenly it _is_."

"But more than that." Mariko piped up. "Is that the thing in question was always never not where its Observed."

"…that sentence makes no sense." Aranea spoke.

"Does it?" Marie countered.

"uhh yeah, it's like a double negative-positive." Kiera parried.

" _Does it?_ " Marie reposted.

Seth chuckled, putting an end to the verbal cul-de-sac before it could go another loop.

"She's right, it makes absolutely perfect sense, if you understand _concept_."

"Well I _don't_ so explain please?" Becket grumbled.

"Well, lets break down the sentence. 'Always never not there.' Start with 'always.' Always implies something that has been in existence as far back as current memory goes. For example, someone noticing a building that's an ugly piss yellow. _They_ just realized what it was colored, but upon asking someone else, the person replies 'its always been like that.' This implies heavily that the paintjob has been done long enough ago that it became so familiar that few, if any, remember that building being another color."

"The next word, would be 'never'." Medea cut in. "On its own, it is indeed a negation. 'Never'. Something that could not ever be whatever X is. 'Always never' sounds contradictory, but in actuality, it's a nearly absolute negation. An example of that, being someone say, asking another person out. And the one receiving the attention, replies with 'always never'. Meaning no matter what is done or how, that person will never succeed in asking them out."

"And then we reach the last word. 'not.' Another negation. However, paired with 'never', in any order, makes the term a possibility. 'Never not' and 'not never' are almost exactly the same, just reverse causality of each other." Returned Seth.

"To say something is 'never not' something else, means for it to have always been that thing, and was never in any state other than how it was found. To say something is 'not never' is more of a time based meaning. 'Not never', meaning that the subject in question is an eventuality, that is unlikely to occur in any immediate timeframe, but _will_ occur at some point."

He looked around to make sure everyone was following. Noting that they were, and that Jin was actually taking notes, he finished up.

"So then we reach the actuality of it. 'Always never not there'. The true meaning of that, is that the object or subject in question, not only was there as far back as memory can reach, but was in that state, at all times, since the moment of its conception. To say that something is 'always never not' where it is claimed to be, means that at any time someone is seeking it, that space, is _exactly_ where it will be, every single time, and will have _always_ been in that spot no matter what."

"And how that ties into an Observer, is that an Observer can say that something is 'always never not there.' And by doing that, they twist reality to make it true." Medea concluded.

Seth nodded. "Yeah. Any time you're looking for those keys, for that remote, once the Observer dictates the location it was in, it will be there every time you 'lose' it. And if you can't find it, you merely ask the Observer, and once they speak the decree again, poof. There it is."

"… **I Am.** " Suddenly Katie muttered, heard by everyone.

"Exactly." Seth replied. The ginger haired woman jumped in her seat, as she'd been lost in thought, half-listening. She'd spoken absently, but he'd acknowledged her.

"Wait what?" Kiera blurted.

"The…that passage in his book. There was one that went into how to face…being Nothing. And it was to Know yourself. … **I Am**."

Seth nodded. "To know your flaws your failings, your victories and successes. To know you like no other. To know you so well you know when you _don't_ know."

"That's…that's Self-Observation…isn't it? Like…to be Observing yourself…" she trailed off.

"The only way to counter the natural destabilizing effect of the Void. It asks not if it can destroy you. It can. It will. It is. It asks 'who are you', as it does so. And the louder you can say **I Am** , the longer it takes to be devoured. The stronger your concept of being."

"…and that lack of retort is how everything happened, Master." Medea spoke softly.

Again, Seth nodded. "I figured as much…"

* * *

The way she explained it further, was that she had grasped the fear, the terror that was solely hers. The pain and anguish that was of her own emotions, buried in the mass of souls as it was.

He had made a promise to her. At the time it was made, she brushed it aside, but she _remembered_ it. She didn't believe in it, it was impossible, even to her.

But he _did_.

" _My Master is a man of his word. His word is his bond is his life. If he says he'll do something, it will take an act of God to stop him."_

And that was the thick of it. She didn't believe his statement that no matter what, all she had to do was call out to him, and he'd be there. That was too much. But she acknowledged that he believed that if he gave his word on something, he would follow through. Though the situation hadn't appeared up until the Kaijuu, she had absorbed that concept. The idea that he who calls himself 'Selh'teus Rodin', the one called 'Voidwalker', the one she calls 'Master'; will always keep his word.

And his word, just so had been, that if she called, he would be there.

" _For you, Master, that was your Truth. And even if I didn't believe it, you did. It was_ _ **your**_ _truth."_

" _And because it was my Truth, you accepted that I believed such a thing was possible."_

" _Thus, making it possible."_

The logic of it was twisted. Strange. Abnormal. Even amongst the weird supernatural shit. It was flimsy, honestly. But it was explained by both, that it was akin to taking a picture of someone.

" _Take a snapshot. You've captured a specific moment in time. The image immortalizes it until something destroys the medium. Now take that picture, and imagine from that picture, you can read the thoughts of the people in it, at that exact moment. Someone staring off into space, looking like they're pondering the meaning of life."_

" _Only to find out they've got a bitch of an itch on their left ballsack and they're trying to think of a way to scratch it properly without going into their own pants."_

An **Observer** could decree that something or someone existed in a given space. Their 'vision' was so powerful that it made real what they 'saw'. However, one who was _Observed_ had some level of control. The stronger one's self-referential existence was, the less an Observer could control the parameters of the Observed.

" _The way it works is that it becomes a clash of concepts. If the Observer's capability is less than the Observed, they may be able to witness the being, but not have any ability to direct or control its existence."_

" _Think of it like looking at a building in the distance. As an Observer, you can see that there is indeed a building there. But if you're not strong enough, that's all you can do; note there's a building where you're looking. The bigger the gap between Observer and Observed, would be like having cameras closer to, or even inside the building."_

" _And in the opposing spectrum, if the Observed is the stronger, then at best, you can only see that there is something in the shape of a Building off in the distance."_

The thing was, sometimes even if an Observer was weaker in conceptual strength than the Observed, the one being Observed could dial themselves back. A lack of a clash of wills or even so much as a resonant existence, would allow a lesser Observer to be able to behold and thus understand, and thus _realize_ (in the sense of making something real) more of the Observed one's existence.

Minor concepts such as vague idea of their shape, maybe their visible gender, impressions of their clothes, and perhaps a weak sense of their voice, would grow. Their body type would be revealed, understanding of how they saw themselves, the type of clothing they wore in detail, intimate knowledge of their tonal inflections and vocal range.

* * *

"This is all truly _fascinating_ and I would _really_ personally like to sit down another time and learn more, but how does this apply to Miss Wolfe?" Jin queried, a light tone of regret in her voice.

 **(BGM: NieR: Automata – Crumbling Lies – Front)**

She was truly enjoying learning these concepts, as while hints of them had existed in her masteries, the application of supernatural existence to them, made them take on an _entirely_ new meaning and shape.

"He was unconscious…at best." Medea said quietly, eyes haunted. "What I'd wished for, what I'd called for, was impossible. He was _unconscious and buried alive_ if not dead under fallen rubble."

She had hunched over, gripping her upper arms, staring into space.

"But he'd promised…he'd promised…he'd _promised!_ We were facing a giant stone snake powered by lightning in the place decimated by psychic driven clones and I was _drowning in a sea of screams_ and all I could _**taste**_ was fear and blood and pain!"

She was…descending again.

Dropping out of her current self.

Falling…into _madness_.

"So I called. I called out, grasped the only part of _me_ I could even slightly still understand. I remembered _his promise_ and grasped it with the last vestiges of my smothered sanity…"

And like a puppet whose strings were cut, Medea's arms dropped. The tension just…vanished.

"And **My Master** responded."

Her head rolled back, eyes locked to the ceiling.

"The screams died. The blood dried. The tears stopped coming. And all I could see, was that _he was in front of me._ And that's _all that mattered anymore_. He was _here_. He was _real_. He'd kept his promise."

Slowly, her whole body turned to face Seth, who was watching, stone-faced.

He was…very much struggling against three different emotions all vying for control.

"…My Master had made a _true impossibility_ , a reality. My Master, spoke an impossible promise. And he _kept it_."

It was as if only the two of them were in the room anymore. Their gazes locked on one another. Not moving, not changing.

Practically not even _breathing_.

Why was she able to _summon_ him in such a way?

Why was he suddenly capable of _teleporting_ when never before did he display such an ability?

Why was it that he could _negate_ the stream of pure energy that ripped from the maw of the Kaijuu?

"It wasn't so simple as just making a vision of mine become obsolete."

Why was she suddenly materializing things from various points in time?

Because she had **Observed** him.

"He was there. _Right there_."

The 'him' she'd held deep in her heart of hearts. The Mental Image of who _he_ was.

Aranea was wrong. Medea hadn't told _the_ truth. Just _a_ truth. **Her** truth.

Jin was wrong. Medea hadn't decreed reality. Merely replaced it. With **her own**.

Katie was the closest to being right. Medea spoke of what at that point in time 'is'. But she didn't just speak it. She **commanded** it.

She cried out, reached beyond herself, beyond her reality, beyond her comprehension, _beyond nothing_.

Medea Wolfe had grasped hold of the conceptual shape of all that was 'Selh'teus Rodin.' She had _pulled_ at the very concept, the _meaning_ behind his existence. All that he had been to her, all that he had meant to her.

"When there was _no way he should have possibly been able to be there_."

An **Observer** can make real that which previously was not. And when the Observed happens to be a person, there can be, a clash of wills.

"But there he was."

…But if that person is incapable of resisting…

"As if he was **always never not by my side.** "

Then the **Observer** could quite possibly, even if only temporarily, _rewrite their entire concept of existence._

"And that's when I knew, that nothing else mattered."

He was unconscious. Incapable of resisting even if he'd wanted to. Thus when she called, she called not the him that _was_ …but instead…

The him that **could be**.

" _ **Because My Master was Zero. And where he stood, an End, had Come."**_

No matter _what_ shape that appeared as.


	17. Mentality

The sky was dark with angry grey clouds. Heavy, huge droplets crashed to the ground with loud splatters in a curtain of falling rain. Each orb of condensed moisture descending with the force of a full powered finger flick. They dropped with the weight of screaming stones. Impacting upon flesh and cloth and brick alike like repeated beats of miniature drums.

The air was thick with humidity and _power_ , as lightning flashed rapidly, scars of bright blue-white glare cutting across the sky, heralding bone shuddering _walls_ of thunder. The ground shook, the air vibrated, what dust and gravel could be seen beneath the pools of wet, shivered and rolled.

The ground was cracked and split open, buildings with chunks of sides taken out of them, broken masses of brick and plaster. The landscape was littered with fallen trees and broken branches, twisted hunks of metal and glass and rubber wheels popped and deflated, cracked rims and shattered doors being the remnants of cars and vans and busses.

A constant buzzing hum of fizzling air and heat assaulted the ears, flittering between the deafening booms of thunder.

She was drenched. She was cold. She was paralyzed with fear.

She'd seen it. Ten stories tall, winding and weaving in the shape of a stone snake. Body alight with crackles of lightning and power and heat and _rage_.

And there _he_ was.

Stood before it.

She called out to him, seeing his head turn.

But the moment his eyes left the _demon_ , it struck.

A Maw of jagged teeth. Formed of broken, sharpened stone and metal and glass. It opened wide, wider than wide, longer than long, able to fit an entire building inside it should it have wished.

And as his eyes met hers, it snatched him up.

She screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed. She raged, streaks running down her face. Tears? Droplets of the heavy rain? Blood?

She watched as _nothing_ she did mattered. Her rage, her hate, her _fear_. It was nothing to the _monster that ate her Hope_.

A flash of light, a shock of blue hair.

 **A scorch on the pavement.**

A blur of stone, a shrill squawk.

 **A smattering of blood and feathers on a broken wall.**

A resounding boom, a crash of metal.

 **A single, camo patterned leg from beneath a broken car.**

One by one, she watched everyone she'd come to care about, _erased_ by the **demon** before her.

As she could do nothing to stop it.

And finally, it turned its gaze to her.

Kneeling. Sobbing. _Begging_.

Its Maw opened again. A brilliant, terrifying light building within.

A loud, garbled, crackling roar.

 **A flare of light. A wave of heat.**

 _ **Blocked.**_

Her eyes opened. The heat had been stopped. The light contained.

 **By a glimmering wall of solid ice.**

 ***AAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEE** _ **AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH***_

Her body flinched violently. Her ears rang with a shrill screech that echoed not merely in the air but in her very bones. And above she saw…

Something _different_.

It was huge. Not as big as the stone-snake but maybe only half as much.

Its body looked vaguely avian, though with no feathers. Its flesh seemed to be made of webbed leather, the underside of its equally large wings a faint yellow-tinged cream. The rest was a shade darker than sky, a fairly bird-like head, with similar colored legs ending in three wicked black talons.

It shimmered with flittering light, reflecting off of multiple fluttering specs of _ice_.

 _ **Legiana**_

It was huge. It was _beautiful_.

And it gave a cooing howl as it tucked its wings to its torso and _rolled_. A wave of frost scarred the ground as it _drilled_ into the lightning-snake, eliciting a garbled cry of fury and almost _pain_.

She could do nothing but watch in absolute amazement as the shockingly _lithe_ avian creature darted around the lunging bites of the stone-snake beast. But as fast as it was, as furious as its pecks and talons were raked against the stone flesh, it was kept at bay by the occasional blasts of electricity the snake beast would loose.

And finally, one of those potent bolts hit the creature dead on. A screeching mournful warbling cry escaped from its beak as it floundered and dropped to the ground, twitching and kicking in spasms. As if assured it would not be assaulted further, the lightning snake turned back to her, crackling loudly, four chunks of stone rising before launching at her position.

She felt powerless the whole time. A part of her screamed, stand up, fight back, catch them, do _something_ but she could naught but kneel in place, watching her death approach.

 ***BHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEOUUUUUUUUHHHH***

Suddenly the air grew thick.

Oppressive.

 _ **Violent.**_

She couldn't but cover her eyes with her arms, the air around her becoming suffocating with incredibly fierce winds, a literal twister forming around her. The sheer pressure of the currents forming an impossibly dense cloud of dust and moisture blocking her view…but also deflecting the four boulders that were poised to end her life.

And then suddenly, the twister _burst_.

And she could only gape at what was above her.

This one…four powerful looking limbs. A body made of what looked like iron scales and ridges, as if forged from melted steel. A long, powerful tail that narrowed into an elegant slender shape. Inverse, bat-like wings wider than even the last creature.

This was a _dragon_. And its regal gaze stared at her for but a moment, before turning its view upon the monster that threatened her.

 _ **Kushala Daora**_

She…had no idea how she knew the names of these creatures. But they appeared in her mind, as if she'd always known. The great dragon, still not matching the stone-snake-beast's height, roared its challenge, flapping once, and _swimming_ through the air. Its movements were shockingly graceful. The previous creature, the **Legiana** was elegant, like that of a stalking huntress of a dancer, but this one, this… _Kushala Daora_ …

Its movements were fluid like water, though it seemed to _swim_ through the air. The stone beast launched boulders at it once again, but each one was deftly dodged with a casual ease. It tried to pepper the dragon with smaller stones, but an almost amused sounding huff from its maw created a veil of grey wisps, nigh invisible, that were apparently powerful wind currents.

The stones bounced off this barrier, as if they were naught but flicks of water impacting a solid wall.

The dragon gave a brief roar, before curling around itself, and springing into the air, a smaller twister emerging as it ascended. Here, it was far above the stone snake, where it reared back, wisps of grey and white gathering at its maw, and then lashed forward, a _heavy_ distortion rippling through the air.

Like with the Legiana, the Kaijuu was slammed hard by the attack its lanky form sent reeling. Only this time it crashed into the ground.

Crackles formed along its body, but as that happened, something _else_ appeared.

 ***HUUUUUUUUOOOOOOUUUUUUUUNNNNGH***

The Kushala Daora ascended further, out of reach of the newcomer.

A massive four legged beast. Its body was covered in aged, bone-colored spikes. _Covered_.

From its massive claws, to its almost demonic looking head, to its equally huge wings, to even the end of its _tail_. Many of the spikes were curved or barbed, looking to create _wicked_ gashes in whatever poor creature stood before it. Its roar sounded like the gargling of an entire continent.

This was no _mere_ dragon.

This…was a damn near _god_.

 _ **Nergigante**_

The feeling she got from this creature this… _Nergigante_ , was of hunger. But not of _madness_. A hunger of a refined palate, of one who sought only the hardest of prey to hunt, only the finest of meats to consume.

One who would consume _god._

If god was to be worthy.

It launched itself forward, staggering onto its hind legs, crashing down on the Kaijuu. The violent sparks lit up the Nergigante's body, something that caused it to howl in agony, but it did not relent in its assault. It was fast, as fast as the Legiana and twice as ferocious.

Legiana was a hunter. Kushala Daora, a warrior. But this?

This one, was a _demon_.

It _ate_ the multiple waves of electricity the flailing Kaijuu released. Its horns and many spikes breaking off and regrowing faster than a non-deity had any right to. Alma was nearly paralyzed with wonder as she watched this… _demon_ just claw and scrape and tear at the Kaijuu that had killed everything she loved and…

And…

…that's when it got _loud_.

…they weren't dead.

This…this wasn't how it ended.

This wasn't what _happened_.

It was with a triumphant roar, that the creature turned from the Kaijuu, and looked _directly at her._

…but she was no longer afraid.

It stalked up to her, slowly, a low growl from its maw.

…but she stood to face it.

It didn't howl again though. It just stopped, staring at her.

A loud rush of air and a glance to her right, showed the Kushala Daora landing. The Nergigante looked at it once, growled, but then ignored it, in favor of her again.

A small part of her warned her that this was not normal behavior…but she barely heard it.

A small cooing ending in a low squawk drew her attention to her left. It was limping slightly, but the Legiana too stood to her side.

And then she realized.

They were at her _tree_. She'd turned around surprised, staring at it. And when she turned back, she didn't see the three beasts.

But three women.

Before she could say anything, only barely recognizing two of them, she suddenly felt _heavy_.

The rushing came back, overflowing, overpowering, and taking her vision with it.

* * *

 **(BGM: NieR Automata – Fortress of Lies)**

A low groan emerged from her throat. Her body felt warm, but not uncomfortably so. She could feel minor aches in her arms and legs, but what started making her mind clear, was the feeling of something hard-ish on her chest. Her eyes blinked open, clouded by exhaustion and her own curtain of hair.

It was then that she realized there was something far too solid around her torso. Head rising slightly, the black veil parted enough for her to see a face illuminated by a glowing screen.

It belonged to Seth.

Feeling her stirring, he tilted his head her direction. After seeing her eyes (blue, for the time being) looking at him groggily, he gave her a gentle grin, before flicking his head. The motion wasn't so much to catch her attention or direct it, but more to flick back the headphones he was wearing.

Blearily, Alma could barely make out the sounds of a man screaming obscenities.

"… _ocking, fucknutting, wank-wank-kUHAIGIGhhh…"_

"Hey." He said quietly to her.

It distracted her from trying to listen to the _fascinating_ verbage. "…hi…"

He squeezed her softly, making her smile.

"So…" He began. "…daddy, huh?"

And the smile immediately froze.

"…noooo…." She whisper groaned.

"…yeeaaaaah." He retorted.

Her response to his, was to bury her face in the pillow next to him.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 16 –** _ **Mentality**_

She had told him to hold the thought of the memory of what she missed earlier in the day, in mind. Doing so, she'd explained, would make it easier for her to jump in and ingest the information. It was a trick she'd learned along the year she spent on her own, trying to avoid people.

The technique was based off of the old psychological adage: when you tell someone not to think about something, even if they obey the instruction, there is a moment where all they can think about is that subject. Telepaths like Alma, can use that moment of unconscious thought, to access the memory that the person holds of whatever that subject was, as it's the clearest thought. Not to say that any information can truly be retrieved, let alone useful knowledge, but more that the attempt to claim such, is made simpler.

Thus he did, and she became informed of the multitude of subjects covered while she was…asleep, for lack of a better term.

She would note that it was quite strange to see herself as a child again.

From the outside, at least.

And it only made her feelings for him stronger, when she saw the care and compassion he directed towards her younger self, even if he was uncomfortable and unnerved by the sudden transformation.

Still, the whole of it was that the Kaijuu was defeated by Medea, ultimately. As she was the one who had pushed beyond her own natural capabilities and limits, to literally twist the current reality into one where victory was not only possible, but assured.

" _The Song helped."_

" _Song?"_

" _I uhh…I picked EXEC_Z."_

"… _iihiiiinteresting."_

" _What's so interesting about that, Seth?"_

" _That particular song has heavy infliction of an unwanted course of action being taken by the singer, under the control of another and driven to the border of madness."_

" _It's about losing yourself to the will of another and effectively becoming a tool for a suicidal genocide of your entire species."_

" _The Song itself is a spell that would have completely erased the singer's kind, that in the story it came from, was stopped before it was completed. Fitting, Maddy."_

" _I guess I thought so at the time too, Master."_

Alma had confirmed for him, once more, that yes, the state of the ruined mall had shifted and changed based on some sort of criteria that only Medea ever knew at any given time. Objects would appear and vanish as needed, as directed, that seemed to be tied to the very history of the location.

" _Somehow I just…knew…everything about that particular plot of land. And I could reach out and practically touch every individual moment. Like screenshots of Time and Memory. And bring them to the present."_

" _Fuckin nasty. Well I know to go to you if I ever lose my keys again."_

"… _I even saw the end of it. If i…if I'd wanted to…I could have…I_ _ **would**_ _, have dropped a damn meteor on that thing's head."_

"… _Comet2?"_

"… _ **Ecliptic Meteor**_ _."_

" _Shit me, Dee."_

 _She'd shaken her head._

" _I…Alma's not the only one who needs you around for stability purposes, Master."_

Though in the end it was acknowledged that such a thing would be unlikely to happen ever again. The emotional and mental stress it placed on Medea to _"Exceed"_ her own powers had nearly broken her, and it was truly only the _concept_ of Seth as an existence beyond mortals, that kept her from losing herself. To rely on such an unstable thing, especially with him being capable of resisting her attempted changes, would be foolish and pointlessly dangerous.

Medea was _not_ a combatant, nor did she wish to be trained as one. Her precognition would afford her protection in a fight, as it seemed that ever since _pushing_ the way she did, it would now trigger randomly as phantom echoes of directional impulses; but she did not at all enjoy the situation with the Kaijuu.

Combat was not her forte, nor would she ever wish it to be. Which Selh'teus agreed, was perfectly fine.

* * *

"…she wants you to 'claim' her?"

He nodded, a little surprised Alma saw _that_ particular part.

After the others had left, including Medea, as she still hadn't officially moved in and had to return to her own home for the night, Marie had assisted Seth in caring for the still child-formed Alma. While a shower was still out of the question due to the child being asleep and not wanting to wake her, Marie had offered to at least wash his hair in the kitchen sink, which happened to have a chorded faucet for cleaning larger pots.

It was during that, where Mariko had offhandedly commented something about 'awaiting his claim upon her, though I have no intention of pushing the subject, sir.'

It wasn't until about an hour after that, did he start to realize what that meant, and thus, grew mildly confused.

"…do it."

"…wait what?"

"Seth do you know what her biggest current desire is?"

"Uhh…I thought we made that happen already."

"Current."

"Oh…no."

Alma sat up, staring directly into his eyes. He actually started feeling a mite worried.

"She wants, and I quote, 'to start her day with a belly full of _you_.'"

"… **well."**

"What the fu-

"That means-

"I _know_ what that means I'm trying to wrap my head around it what the shit!"

Alma shook her head. "Daddy she's _desperate_."

He leaned back and pointed a finger at her. "You just called me Daddy. You in the not-child form. The fuck."

Alma's nose scrunched up but she brushed it aside. "Bleed over. Doesn't matter. Listen to me."

He was. And he was rather…unsettled.

"She's not the _only one_."

Ahh. Well.

"She is a _tool_. That's how she sees herself. A _servant_. She happily presents herself as _your servant_. And she wants to _serve_ you in _everything_. To her, you allowed her to _survive_ and are now giving her a chance at _living_. She doesn't feel _worthy_ of that. She literally carted your book around in her bag in close reach at all times for _years_. It was her lifeline, her bible her _everything_. And now she _lives with you_."

He stayed silent, even in his thoughts.

"And she's _content_ with that. It's more than she ever thought she'd be able to gain but she wants _more_. Not for herself, but for _you_. She is a broken little bird and she feels like even being your maid isn't enough. She wants, she _craves_ being your _servant_. She wants to be, in any capacity she can fulfill, for you, what you have always been, in her mind, for her."

Always present. Always listening. Always guiding. Always helping.

He had _served_ her well, in the past, even if it was only through pre-written word. And she, in truth, wishes to repay the favor. With **interest**.

…such is the lot, of those who have truly been broken.

"Her wish has already been granted. She's _here_. With _you_. Cared for by _you_. Helping _you_. That was her dream. But her _desire_ , is to make _you happy_. No matter what she has to do. She wants to be _useful_ to you. You gave her what she wanted for herself; her hope and dreams back. Her chance at _living_ back. She's _content_ here. But she wants _you_ to be happy. She wants more than just contentment for you she wants you to be _ecstatic._ "

"But you're broken too."

"yes but I'm _crazy_."

He opened his mouth.

"I am. Don't even try."

It closed.

"You…you don't get it. Listen." She was…practically frantic. He could almost taste her _need_ for him to understand. And he was trying. He was.

But they weren't the only ones with self-esteem issues. His were just better locked up.

"She…would be all for you doing _whatever_ you wanted to her, if it wasn't for one, specific thing."

He rose an eyebrow cautiously.

"She wants to be _conscious_ for it. She _needs_ to see it for herself. To witness with her own two eyes, that she is _pleasing_ you. She wants to _Observe_ that she was successful in making you happy, that she was successful in being _useful_. It's a _dangerous_ line she's at. Do you get why?"

He did. And said so.

"…because if it goes beyond this current level even once, and she gets it into her head that she's more useful to me unconscious or worse, than awake…"

She would happily plunge her own sword into her chest, that she would be more useful in death than she ever was in life.

…such was the lot. Of the broken ones.

He shook his head. That…was not a future he desired.

…but even he knew, that his desire could be overcome by Marie's.

"…but what about you?"

"Me? Crazy, remember? I want you in me. _I don't care if I'm awake when you start_."

She was serious. Completely serious.

"She wants you, but not for her. She wants you, for _you_. For your pleasure. For your happiness. **I** want you for _mine_."

And that was the plain of it. Marie and Alma were similarly broken women. Emotionally stunted, mentally damaged, personally compromised beings. Mariko saw herself as little more than a tool to be used, but that was what she _designed herself to become_. That went from a general feeling to an active _choice_.

Mariko _wants_ to be his tool, his servant. She wants to repay him for everything he'd ever done, even before he knew she existed, because _that was the path she chose and she held no regrets_. It is where she is happiest. Not _directly_ by his side, but within arm's reach, within commanding range. She wanted to be his sword, his shield, his _plaything_. She wants to be _his_ and his alone. His toy, his _belonging._

Alma was the only one between the four of them that knew that Mariko Ann Kusumi believed she was not worth marrying, and would likely be repulsed at the idea of being offered. She is _his_ tool, _his_ servant.

She belongs to _him_. Body, mind, and soul.

And that was _better_ than marriage could ever be, to her.

But that was what she wanted, for _herself_. And she was granted that. Her goal for herself had been reached, even before she knew she'd set it.

After all, it had taken Alma going into her mind for Marie to truly understand what it was she actually _wanted_ in life.

But she, as Alma was trying to illustrate, wanted _more_ for him. She wanted to _give_ him more. To give him every second of her (self-believed) worthless existence. She obeyed, not like Medea, who gave up control when she was torn in indecision. Not like Alma, who listened because he was teaching her.

But because that was her _purpose_.

He was her _Owner_. And it was _her_ job to make sure he remained happy.

But while that was mostly her choice, its roots were buried deep within the part of her that viewed herself as unwanted. Thus, it mutates into her current pathological need to be useful to him.

As Alma had stated, in Marie's mind, a 'belly full of him' every morning, meant she was doing her job _right_.

Alma, on the other hand, while similarly broken, was already _made a tool_. Her choice was taken from her as a child, any hopes or dreams, crushed by her father and his company. She didn't _want_ to be a tool, she _already was one_. It was what she lived, was all that she knew.

But she wasn't _good_ at it.

Thus, she was trying to break free of that. To become a person. To **be better**.

She wanted to repay him, yes. And in that, she would do so by staying by his side, by trying _not_ to be as clingy even though she was the only one truly benefiting from their connection. And if she could use her body to help in that? Victory.

But she wanted him, not just to repay him, but for _herself_.

Marie needed to be conscious, to see that she was succeeding in being a proper Servant. To know, first-hand, that she was doing it _right_ and he was pleased by her.

 _Alma_ didn't care. She just wanted _him_.

" _If I woke up in the middle of you plowing my goddamn asshole, I'd be in fucking bliss."_

Her words.

She wants _him_. She wants him to give her a _family_. She wants to _make_ a family. A proper one. One filled with love and care and _safety_. And she wants it with _him_ because he was truly her _first_.

The first one to truly acknowledge her.

The first one to offer her sanctuary.

The first one to give her anything more than mournful scorn or active disdain.

He was everything she'd ever wanted for herself as a child and further for the family she wanted to forge with her own two hands. He wasn't perfect but to her, he was.

All because he actually _cared_.

She fully believed, seeing the memories of Medea, seeing the memories of his personal choices and decisions, how when _he_ made a bad call of his own action he owned up to it, and when it was due to someone else's setting the stage, he owned _his_ part; that he would be a _fine_ father.

At least, miles better than her own.

She wanted a home, which she was granted now. She wanted love, which she was gaining. She wanted a _family_ …

And she wanted it with _him_.

But at the same time, all those years that she was asleep in that damn _tank_ , all those wasted years of lack of growth…she's emotionally stunted.

And it's all rushing back.

"I damn near set fire to a clothing store because Medea was touching me in places I'd never been touched before with care and kindness I'd never been given and even though she was doing it _entirely_ non-sexually I was getting hornier than a goddamn Nergigante."

"…the fact that you have dived into my head enough to know what that is, let alone use it as a colloquialism when I _know_ I haven't played Monster Hunter around you yet is fucking astonishing."

The truth of the matter was that Alma Wade was a fourty year old woman in the body of a twenty year old with the sex drive of a sixteen year old mixed with the emotional growth of a ten year old.

She was a _goddamn_ _ **mess**_.

"Marie is _in control_. She has made a _choice_. She wants to be on her knees in front of you as often as possible because _that's where she wants to be_. She has sundered her power, her concept, her _being_ , unto you, at her _own will_. Even if its origin is damaged and unhealthy she _owns_ it. She has collared herself and handed you the leash and she is _fucking over the moon_ about it. She's already _happy_ she wants to make _you_ happy."

"…I could slap her in the face and she'd apologize for hurting my hand…" he responded, voice tinged with something not-positive.

He'd said those words, to Medea. It would seem he was more right than he'd imagined.

"Every time you tell her to bring out her wings, she takes her shirt off."

His eyes widened. It was true, she did.

"Agh fu-

"No. Stop. Listen."

He shut up.

"She _takes her shirt off_. Something pretty much _everyone_ is conditioned to believe is a goddamn taboo in public, she does, without hesitation. The mousy, shy, unloved little girl of a woman, suddenly yanks her damn top of and bounces those amazingly fluffy tits in the breeze, _because you told her to spread her wings_."

Yes, he understood that he overrode her-

"No, shut up."

…

"You don't get it yet. The moment you _command_ her, the same way you sometimes do Medea, her mind, _blanks_."

…what.

"All that matters to her in that moment is _Obeying_. Its freaky. She loses all fear and worry and focuses only on what your command was."

…effectively, what Alma was trying to say, was that Mariko had somehow rewired her mind, so that should Selh'teus give her an _order_ , she would, no matter what, strive to fulfill it.

"…like a _command seal_."

"I don't know what that is, but if you said it, probably."

"…the _fuck_ …"

"You are what's most important to her. Your word is her law. Your want is her demand. You are her _god_. Accept that."

"…I guess I really should…"

Alma nodded sharply. She was…actually very much channeling Medea right now. He looked at her. _Really_ looked at her.

"…all of my babies, huh?"

Her eyes softened.

"I can't control it. And it got worse when the connection broke. Much, much worse. But…its what I want. For _us_."

Us?

She felt his confusion.

"You and I. I told you…before I saw the bad future, I wanted to make a child to have the love I never did. To the point I didn't care if it was wanted by the other person or not. I still want that. I still… _need_ that. But I'm…I've grown enough as a person to understand that I can't do that. Not like that."

She sighed.

"And…I've seen you. A lot of you. _So much_ of you. You'd be…at least I think, a _great_ father. And I want my children to be _yours_. Not just from absolute horniness but because that's the future that _I_ believe in. Maybe not right now, because I know you're not ready, and really, neither am I, but…"

"Eventually."

She nodded.

"…gonna need to go get some condoms then…"

"Fuck that."

He blanched at the…seriously her words were like a thrown friggin spear how did she do that?

"Honey." She said. "I turned myself into a _child_ out of absolute terror. _Unconsciously_. I'm…I don't know _what_ I am. But I can apparently shapeshift along my own personal timeline. I want your babies, but I want your babies _when you're ready to give me them._ That…is the one thing I can say for _certain_ I have control over. You can fill me up a thousand times over but until you _tell me directly that you're ready_ , I'm not getting pregnant."

He blinked at her.

"…we're putting you on birth control just to be safe."

"Promise to always do me raw and we have a deal."

"You're just…eternally _thirsty_ for it aren't you?"

She gave him a half-lidded stare, creeping her left arm across his chest to rest her hand next to his head. Slowly, she clambered on top of him, eyes boring into his.

"I have been _literally_ attempting to put you in me since the moment we met and you're _just realizing that_ _now_? Honey, you are a goddamn oasis in a summer desert. _Thirst_ doesn't even _begin_ to describe it."

"…what the _fuck_ is my goddamn life…"

To that, she just cackled, releasing the days of emotional turmoil and mounting tension that had been stored.

He was safe. He was alive.

And once again she was united with him.

To her, that's all that mattered.


	18. Motion

"Angel ho-…wh-what are you doing?"

A young girl. Perhaps maybe around fourteen, was putting on her shoes.

"I need to get out for a bit."

The questioner sighed. "Angel you can't-

"I can, and I will. It's not like you can stop me anyway."

Another sigh. This one tinged with annoyance. "That doesn't mean you can-

"Considering the dubious legality of what's going on here? Yes. Yes it does."

This time the original speaker stayed silent. The girl was right. While what they were doing, her presence where she was, wasn't _wrong_ , she…basically didn't exist anywhere except in their records.

Their, _private_ records.

"Look, Evie. I'm not gonna lie. Your hovering the past week has been kiiinda annoying. I know why you've been doing it but its getting on my nerves. I _like_ you, Evie. I don't want that to change."

The woman, Eveline, just nodded. She was a teenager too once. And while her rebellious acts were simply cutting class (her grades stayed steady somehow), she understood. Since the day Alma went nuts and their Angel fell unconscious, she'd been unintentionally making herself far more available for the girl than normal.

Which was now being considered an irritant…and one that couldn't be unexpected either.

The frequent tests the girl was forced to undergo (or apparently _allowed_ to happen), had most of the researchers and scientists giving her a wide berth. Many of them had heard tales of their _last_ psychic and wanted little to do with being turned into liquid shit. Thus, she grew up fairly alone.

She'd been independent for quite a while, and Eveline's current recent mothering was against the norm, and clearly something the girl wasn't truly appreciating. Which was fair and understandable.

Eveline was one of the few she actively seemed to enjoy being around. To the point where at worst when waking her against her will, Angel would simply bat at her a few times. Physical and telekinetic swipes like that of a cat with phantom limbs. Most everyone else would be thrown away in absolute irritation. Some with only bruises, others with broken bones.

And one…particularly intrusive researcher, insisting on treating the girl who was now clearly going through puberty, as nothing but a tool; who had his neck snapped.

Rarely ever was her door locked, and the bypass was available to Eveline, the Director, and the Head Researcher, for emergencies or 'emergencies.' The previous Head had ignored the lock at his own whimsy, and encountered her while she was…preoccupied. He'd dismissed her embarrassment and her indignation at the violation of one of the few demands she made - the single rule she had was locked or not, _knock_ and wait for her response, or suffer the consequences – and began to lecture her about productivity.

Needless to say after she got over the shock, she had chased him down – still naked mind you – and in front of ten people, gripped his pelvis with her mind and shattered it.

The man screamed in glorious agony for all of five seconds, before she twisted again, and a loud crunch had his neck broken.

The glare she sent to _everyone else_ had a clear message.

 _Obey or die_.

"Where…" Eveline trailed off, knowing that if she _wanted_ to tell her, she would.

"There's a bit of a party, in like, an hour. Across town. Probably no alcohol (not that I'd drink it; she muttered to herself) but maybe about thirty people? I just…need to get out of here for a bit."

"Okay…you…you didn't have anything scheduled for today anyway so…should I clear tomorrow as well?"

The girl looked up, caramel peppered black locks swaying. "Uhh…put a maybe on whatever it is? I should be back before too late tonight so as long as it's not balls-early I should be fine?"

Eveline nodded. "You _are_ coming back?"

They could send out search parties for her but…could do little without making her sound as dangerous as she actually is, when she wants to be. Which would be detrimental and definitely bring an end to the project, and possibly Armacham as well.

Not only that but it would paint a more enticing target on their backs for Alma, and a _lot_ sooner than they would be ready for her.

However, to the query, the girl just snorted.

"It's the only home I know, Evie. I've got nowhere else."

… _for now at least…_

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 17 – Motion**

" _Hey."_

" _Sir?"_

 _The black haired self-imposed maid suddenly found herself pulled close to her 'owner'._

" _Oh Raven…what am I going to do with you."_

 _She was confused. Happy to be embraced so tightly but confused._

" _Sir…?"_

" _I know what you want."_

 _She sighed._

" _I can't say I can_ _ **give**_ _that to you just yet but-_

" _Sir…its not…its not about you giving me anything."_

 _She pulled away, if only to look him in the eyes as she spoke._

" _You've already given me_ _ **everything**_ _. More than I deserve. For years you gave me your time and presence, your words to help me through my shitty life. And now you've given me your home and love. Everything I could have ever asked for, you've given me. Acceptance, friendship, guidance, love. So it isn't about giving me anything more. I…just feel like I should be giving more_ _ **back**_ _."_

" _You're doing more than enough, Mariko."_

 _She nodded into his chest. "Maybe to you, Sir…but to me I could be doing more. I_ _ **want**_ _to be doing more."_

 _He sighed, pulling her close again._

" _I suppose all I can do is respect that."_

"… _sir?"_

" _just give me a little more time to wrap my head around all this."_

" _Take all the time you need."_

* * *

The week after Seth woke from the Kaijuu progressed onward, as time is won't do. With the revelation that Alma had been slinging objects just as heavily as she was swear words, her training tried to focus on what Seth called 'her force'.

Key word being _tried_.

Unlike when they learned her feelings of _passion_ ignited her internal fires and allowed her to spark her Flame, her _force_ was…being stubborn. With her flames, the first day of practice yielded results. Yet this time…

The idea, initially, was to try to find her trigger. As Passion was for her fire, they needed to figure out what made things _move_ around her. Selh'teus had her try to meditate on the feelings she felt while against the Kaijuu. Feelings of desperation, helplessness, rage and hatred, but above all else, _desire_.

She wanted it dead, she wanted it crushed and she didn't care how she had to do it. She just _wanted_.

And yet, nothing. Not even a _rattle_.

Which was strange, in his mind, considering the day before, she'd managed to shake his windows with her _fear_.

" _So I guess we can rule out it being an expansion of your A.T. field causing a reflective effect on the world around you."_

"… _I'm in your mind and none of that made sense to me."_

" _You think she has an A.T. Field, Sir?"_

" _I mean, technically we_ _ **all**_ _do we just can't do anything with it."_

" _I'm still lost."_

" _An A.T. field is short hand for an 'Absolute Terror' or 'Territory' field. It's a border of conceptual space that usually defines one being from another. The walls that make Alma, Alma, or Sir, Sir. Higher powered beings can radiate that concept of self, of absolute being, of definition; outwards. Its very similar to a telekinetic field, in that the stronger one's will, the more power it has."_

" _What she said."_

Thus, a different attempt was made. Instead, he had her try to _want_ badly enough, with herself as the focal point.

" _The way my Gravity works is I have to anchor the origin point to something."_

" _That's right. You have to designate a location as the source. Even if that space isn't you yourself."_

" _Very good, you remembered. Maybe we could try that approach."_

And yet still, nothing happened. She couldn't get the pillow to move in the slightest. Even glaring at it and trying to dive into her rage didn't do anything. Nothing worked, nothing happened, nothing occurred.

He'd had her set a small clump of wood on fire, which she did in a matter of moments, with no effort at all. He'd had her teleport around, even reacting to launched pillows and balls of water. But when it came time to try to move something not herself, she couldn't do it.

The first day ended unsuccessfully, with everyone puzzled, even the arriving Medea who had come to spend the night with Seth, as is their occasional arrangement. He'd long since offered for her to move in with him, but Medea had declined, on the grounds that she wanted to finish her classes first, and even with the addition of his new car the journey to her college was a long one from his place, and she didn't want to expose the world to Alma's teleportations yet.

The time would come, when the world was ready to face their powers at large. But that was not now.

Alma left unhappy, not so much jealous or anything, but frustrated with herself. It wasn't so much that she felt like her powers were _blocked_ , they just weren't responding.

And nobody knew why.

Therefore, she fell asleep, alone and depressed, thoughts of annoyance and feelings of uselessness roaming her consciousness.

Compounded by the trickling emotions of lust and passion filtering through the link.

* * *

"…and you're sure you're alright with it?"

Medea rolled her eyes. "Yes. I'm sure. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have suggested it."

"I mean, the whole situation is weird as hell and…"

"Master."

He shut up.

"It's _fine_. The two of them _need_ you right now far more than I do, and my schedule is going to be full soon. I've learned some things about myself and my powers but otherwise I'm _alright_. _They_ need you, and I acknowledge that, so I'm going to do what's best for _all of us_ and let them have their turn."

She kissed him on the cheek, smirking at him.

"Besides. I was your first, and for the longest time, your only. My position is secure regardless."

She spoke with a very obvious tint of smug. His eyes narrowed, and he reached over to tweak a nipple when suddenly the door cracked open.

…the bedroom door.

…which was _locked from the inside_.

Both of their heads snapped to it, watching in surprise (and in Seth's case, quietly prepping a _dense_ wall of pressure) as it slid open and…

"…Al…ma?"

To their immense confusion…there was a little girl with long black hair, wearing a single red spaghetti strap dress that reached to her knees, waddling in quietly. She shut the door behind her, where the latch-lock flicked shut with a soft clatter, and proceeded to literally stutter step towards the bed where the two naked adults lay.

Ignoring their nudity, she clambered up onto the mattress by burrowing herself under the sheets, rummaging forth until her tiny head popped up between the two of them.

Also ignoring their frozen state of naked, she wrapped her arms around Seth's torso, buried her head into his neck and gave a sleepy grunt before her breathing slowed to a gentle flow.

She was literally out like a damn _light_ , in seconds.

Both of them stared, first at the now sleeping child form of Alma…then at one another.

Seth mouthed 'dafuq?' towards Medea who just blinked rapidly, hesitantly touching the girl's shoulder and jerking back when she discovered it was not merely solid but fully _real_.

Real, as in an _actual child's shoulder_.

"…is that…" she whispered.

He just nodded, the motion shaking the child clinging to him, slightly, causing her to make a soft noise of displeasure, gripping him harder like a cat kneading cloth.

The unfinished question was if that was what had happened when Alma had…regressed, into the child form the day prior. And it was indeed.

Still…her presence rather disrupted the idea of continuing for a second round…yet at the same time, he noted how Medea took in the view of the child form of Alma, her body seeming to…relax?

 _There's a word for it, but I can't explain it…she just seems…different suddenly._

"…I suppose we should heed her, then…" she whispered, once again reaching out but this time, stroking the girl's head. To her surprise, and silent glee, the child reflexively leaned into her touch, giving a low-ish moan of approval.

It made sense, Seth would think to himself, considering he too enjoyed when Medea gave him an almost feline head rub.

* * *

The second day started just as strange as the first ended.

Surprising all three of them, it wasn't the _child_ Alma they woke with, but the _adult_. The very much _naked_ adult. Whom woke with her face not in Seth's neck, but _Medea's_. And Seth's arm around her waist, the man spooning her, as she clutched the blue haired woman's breasts. Medea similarly had woken with her hands on the Alma's rear.

Alma was mortified – though silently happy to wake up feeling so _loved_ – and Medea was smirking. Seth just excused himself, with the statement that two gorgeous and naked women in bed with him was a little bit much.

Alma flushed slightly – shocking, right? Considering how often she propositions him. – at the screamed obscenities Kira was launching at her 'brother' from within the depths of his mind.

The red haired fox-woman was supposed to represent his courage, but lately, had been the most vocal of representatives of his libido, it would seem. She was dressing him down for passing up a perfect time to bed them both.

But Alma had long since understood: if Kira was yelling at him for it, it meant somewhere inside, he _wanted_ to take advantage of the situation, but was being stupid about it. It was fine though, because Alma was happy knowing that he _did_ want her, and quite badly, but he was still trying to get the timing right.

Still, it confused her and mildly worried her when she was told she had just shown up last night, as a _child_ once again – though dressed unlike how they woke up – and silently curled up with them and passed out. Her response was to hesitantly admit she had gone to bed frustrated and depressed and a little lonely.

Though how that caused her to not only regress into her child self, but also _teleport_ to Seth's and just waltz into his bedroom to fall asleep, she didn't know. Still, she'd gotten a warm, tight hug from Medea and a gentle pat on the head and whispered apology from Seth.

Honestly, she didn't _blame_ either of the two of them. Her old self would have but she'd been happy to note she's _grown_ as a person.

 _ **Be Better!**_

She wasn't where she wanted to be, yet, but she was getting there, and very much pleased about it.

While surprised to see her, Marie just took it in stride, smiled at the her fellow Shadow, and continued about like nothing had changed. Seth had expressed an intent to continue her attempts at finding how to trigger her force, over breakfast, but got a call from of all people, Jacob, who had told him that they were going to give a shot at the Mall again. Medea had already left, with surprisingly enough, a kiss on the cheek to both girls; to head home for the day to finish packing her things for her move into her college's dormitory.

Said college was farther from Seth's house than her own, and the bus ride would be an extra half hour to and from, but Alma had _pushed_ that all Medea had to do was think _really hard_ at her, and she'd come to pick her up. Medea tried to refute, but when Alma stood up out of her chair, stomped over to the girl, grabbed her arms and pulled her into a _very_ passionate kiss, the blue-haired Oracle just flushed and shut herself up.

She was no psychic, but she could still feel the _love_ in that kiss. Yes…yes their own connection was growing quite strongly. Medea had no choice but to relent and accept that the psychic had come to care for her almost as much as her anchor in Seth.

It wouldn't be for another week that she had the Vision again, and noted that both she and Alma had slightly more definition to their thrones than before.

* * *

It had been an hour since he'd left and Alma had still made no progress. Marie had been a silent specter, quietly flittering in and out of the living room as she cleaned the house and tended the cats, whom had just repositioned themselves outside for sun and fun and hunting, as they do.

But she was _watching_. Seeing as Alma had long since 'trained' herself to not pick up on wandering surface thoughts of other people, she had no idea that the _Meido_ , was monitoring the woman's progress.

Or rather, lack thereof. Watching her, Marie was noting the difference between the time of the Kaijuu, and this moment.

And the difference was _glaring_.

 _Back then, she was terrified and angry and all sorts of conflicting chaotic emotions…but she was-_

… _oh. I get it. But…I can't…well I could but it wouldn't hold…she'd need to…_

… _right. …I hope I don't mess this up. But if I'm right…_

"Alma? _**Would you kindly**_ stand up for me please?"

Blinking out of her attempted meditations, the black haired psychic took notice of the request. Shaking her head of the lingering cobwebs of looping thoughts, she stood, achingly stretching her back, feeling the pops of bones resetting.

"What did you-

She was cut off, by suddenly Marie's slender hands, wrapping around her neck. The surprise was…well _surprising,_ and thus her lack of reaction was to be easily forgiven.

Especially when it was replaced by only the left, as Marie's lips crashed upon her own. Again, she couldn't react, as the physical contact was taken advantage of by the slightly shorter woman – by only a couple inches! – where the winged maiden _threw_ her mind at the psychic.

Alma, mouth being attacked by Mariko's, could do nothing as suddenly her _mind_ was assaulted by **powerful** feelings coming from the girl lip-locking her, and…also half choking her. The double reduction of air gave rise to a growing panic, before Marie pushed forward, slipping her right leg in between both of Alma's, and _yanking_.

The sudden force brought to the back of her left shin, tripped the psychic up, where she fell backwards onto the couch with a heavy ***FWUMP*** , the half-asian landing on top of her, hand still wrapped around her throat, emotions of _need_ and _desire_ and an extremely powerful _**lust**_ thrown into the psychic's mind.

And yet, the most shocking part was that they weren't just being thrown at her, but they were _pulling_ at her own.

Marie pulled away, but the grip she had on Alma's throat remained, as she literally straddled and began _grinding_ in the psychic's lap.

" _Let. Go."_

Came the whispered, _forceful_ command.

From **Marie.**

Alma's mouth opened slightly, trying to speak but all that happened was her eyes widening as they locked onto the _scarily fierce_ emeralds of Marie's, as the girl's grip grew even stronger. Her attacker's free hand rest on her stomach, as Alma drunk in what traces of air she could. She was still being _bombarded_ , and was incapable of defense.

And yet the fear she felt was…the weakest of all the emotions that were suddenly whirling around her heart and mind.

"Let. _**Go**_."

She had no idea what the woman atop her was trying to make her do but the moment she thought, suddenly the hand around her throat released, only to rapidly slap her in the face. The shock of it kept her off balance, where the hand then quickly slammed back around her neck, pushing her into the couch's pillows.

"No. Stop thinking. Let _go_."

The woman with the wings pressed down with her knees, lifting herself slightly. As her hand trailed south, Alma's eyes widened, body squirming – but not _struggling_ , oddly enough – against Marie's. And as her rider's hand slid between Alma's legs, Marie spoke once again.

"You're still thinking. _Stop it_. Don't think. Don't fear, don't fret, don't _focus_."

Alma's hips bucked. She gasped in a raspy breath. Her chest…it didn't _hurt_ but at the same time it wasn't entirely comfortable.

And yet…she didn't exactly want it to _stop_. Something in her head was…wobbling. She didn't focus on anything, she _couldn't_. Marie's almost _deranged_ speaking tone was washing over her as she was _drowning_ in various emotions that were cycling in a confusing jumbled stormy mess that…

Felt _extremely_ familiar…actually.

"That's it sweetie…" Marie drawled, a nearly _psychotic_ grin on her face, as her fingers worked Alma's insides.

"Stop thinking… _just feel it_."

A pinch, and a push, had a strained gasp as a response.

Her muscles twitched, her head was throbbing from both the lack of oxygen and also something _different_.

"You want. You want so badly but it's not _coming_ is it? It just won't _release_ , right? But see, I _know_ you. I know you better than you think. You _want_ this?" She pushed, Alma shuddered, and struggled a nod.

"But you don't _deserve it_ , do you?"

A weak shake of the head. Alma's hands were gripping Marie's _waist_.

And practically pulling at the girl.

Her response was just a sickly sweet smile.

Oh yes, the psychic had truly underestimated her. They all probably did.

But that _familiarity_ in her motions…it was _different_ than the loss of control and wild passion and sexual craving that Medea drew out of her. This was…

…was like looking at _herself_.

That revelation was halted by another slap in the face.

"Don't get distracted now, honey." She made another pinching motion. Alma buckled once again, a whispered squeal from the back of her throat. The room seemed…to be getting dimmer.

"You want _this_? You want _him_?" As frantic a nod she could make considering she was pinned.

"Then, let. _**Go.**_ "

It was…shockingly loud. Not the words. But _everything_. Her hearing was becoming muffled as her consciousness wavered, kept awake only by the occasional loosening grip allowing her yet another lungful of air between many moments of none; and the practical _drilling_ Marie was doing to her.

It felt good in all the worst possible ways and it confused the _fuck_ out of her but it was also doing something _else_.

Marie had been telling her to let go. To stop thinking. To stop fearing and worrying and _pushing_.

The weight shifted. Marie's cheek was next to hers. Her lips parted.

" _Now…"_

" _ **Break the Rock."**_

A spike of _something_ slammed into Alma's mind when Marie whispered in that sultry, breathy, almost _begging_ tone.

At the same time her fingers curled _up_.

…and for the first time in over a year…

All of Alma Wade's _being_ …

 **Crumbled.**

* * *

When he returned at the end of the day, he was…surprised, to say the least.

Mostly because he wasn't expecting to see Alma in a sheer red babydoll kneeling in his living room…with a topless Marie holding…a…very long belt that happened to be wrapped around the psychic's neck.

 _ **"Oh. Fuck. YES."**_

Alma's lips twitched, unseen by her bowed head, hearing Kira's response to the sight.

"…do I want to know?"

" _ **Welcome Home, Sir."**_

The _both_ of them spoke in unison.

"… _ **Seth. Honey. Why did you leave the impressionable horny psychic with the girl who has basically become your shadow?"**_

Alma twitched at the _new_ voice. Female, middle tone. An impression of flowing garnet hair, a pair of pink-rimmed glasses, and stormy grey business attire, filled her mind.

… _that must have been Ruki then._

"…eeeyaaaup I'm gonna go with not wanting to know."

"We found her _force_ , Sir."

…well shit now he _had_ to know.

"…what part of that involves whatever the hell it is that's in front of me?"

" _ **Okay that's…that's creepy right there."**_

Kira's voice fluttered through Alma's mind, as Seth was exposed to the…manic as hell grin that Marie had given her much earlier in the day.

"Command her, Sir." She said with the aforementioned creepy smile.

… _what the hell did I just step into?_

" _ **Batshit crazy now make her suck you off!"**_

"…Alma, stand up."

" _ **DAMMIT BRO!"**_

"…yes Sir." And she did.

And then his eyes met hers.

"… _ **ok that's new."**_

… _ **did she get 'Norted?**_

Alma blinked rapidly.

"…what does that mean?"

"… _ **nope, still her. Thank Tia for that one."**_

 _Aye._

The response, was due to that suddenly Alma's eyes had a tint of yellow to them. It was faint, but considering her eyes was kinda glowing, it was noticed easily. Marie was still holding the end of the belt, but her grin had slid from almost psychotic, back to a normal, standard happy.

"Nothing. Marie, what's-

"More, Sir."

He just looked at his maid, who gave him a…brilliant smile. She was _happy_. Pure happy, good happy. And he was confused. But clearly they knew something he didn't.

"Well come over here then."

Alma made to move.

" _Both_ of you."

And Marie's smile just widened.

As they both stood in front of him, the question begged to be asked.

"…Marie why are you topless?"

"I spilled something before you got back and didn't have time to put a shirt on, Sir."

He blinked at her, then narrowed his eyes, turning to Alma.

"It's true, Sir."

 _ **Ok the fuck.**_

"Why are you mimicking her suddenly?"

Alma gave a soft smile and shrugged. "Feels right, right now."

That's when he noticed it.

"…your hair's…fluttering on its own."

The smile grew.

Nod.

… _discovered her force…?_

"…ok. What did I miss."

* * *

It wasn't fear.

It wasn't fear, or focus, or fury, or futility. It wasn't _active_ at all. That was the shocking part. Alma's most active power was _inactive_ in its activation. It wasn't a directed or desired or determined thing _at all_.

It just **was.**

Alma's telekinetic powers were born from her telepathic ones. Meaning they were _passive_. They _responded_ to her exact will. Problem was, as a child, that will was malformed, and she was sealed away before they could refine it. Thus, when she was released, and her powers had grown from feedback looping, they responded to the slightest hint of will.

Its why she could levitate an entire dock's worth of filled shipping containers with nary a thought, but also why she couldn't even push a damn _pillow_.

Marie had overpowered her. Reduced her to a helpless state. Just like when she was a child. Just like against the Kaijuu. A bit more pleasurable, especially in the end, but still, helpless.

Because she had to simply _be_ , in order to access it. No thoughts, no desires, just her, and letting go.

Alma's constant field had grown so powerful, as a child, that being around her was dangerous. She had no control, but much like a _different_ Marie, her powers had twisted. Her want to be held and loved and touched had mutated so badly that her powers _drained_. The field wasn't a wall of 'get the hell away from me' but a devouring force of 'please stay with me'.

It didn't shred people out of rejection, but out of _desire for companionship_. It was merely that it was _too powerful_.

The splattering came from the fear. The fear tainted the wall of 'hold me close' and when she saw the pain on their faces turned it into a barrier of 'no don't come near me'.

But she knew about her power to _melt_ people and _splatter_ them and thus when she awoke after failing to impregnate herself on Becket, she _locked herself down_. It took her months but she managed to lock away the strongest parts of her telekinetic field.

And that was why she couldn't control it. Because much like the other _Marie_ , that would become _Rogue_ , her fear and worry and _trauma_ locked her powers in that volatile state. They didn't develop properly, but were _strong_.

When Mariko had…forcibly seduced her, she had taken control away from Alma. Her demand, was that Alma release herself. Marie wasn't afraid of Alma's power, because she'd felt it as it was growing out of control. She'd already felt the pain of being near Alma when Alma was losing herself, and _didn't give a shit_.

She is her master's tool in all things, including when he cannot be present to give instructions.

She'd proven herself to do so already, when she took Command and spoke her Will to the hidden souls around the property. And she did it before, when she took control and bathed the despondent Alma prior to that meeting.

She lives for his pleasure. She is his Servant.

Marie takes _pride_ in that. As one should. For her, it's the meaning of her being.

 _ **She has no regrets, for this is the path she has chosen.**_

That said, Marie had helped explain what she realized.

When Alma was facing the Kaijuu, there was _nothing_ but **Alma** there. All parts of Alma were released, she'd stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and focused only on the threat in front of her. And in doing so, _was strong_.

What Marie did, was _drag that out_. Was it the best way? Probably not. Not even the sanest or safest. But it was _a_ way. And that's all that mattered to…well, either her or Alma.

Alma herself didn't want to be a disappointment anymore. She was growing and learning and evolving and becoming _better_ but that lingering…scar on her heart and her soul from the way her father just cast her aside…

A small part of her had latched onto Seth as the replacement for her father, while the rest of her wanted to fill herself up on him. But that designation remained, and it was _strong_.

She wanted him only to be pleased with her, as much as possible. In that, she and Marie were of one mind.

Marie didn't seek his comfort only because she'd _had_ _it for years_ already. To her, it was _her turn_ to comfort _him_. To make _his_ life easier.

And she _did_. In many ways. But this especially…

The discovery was both surprising and un. Alma's telekinesis was just _there_. It was a part of her. One she'd been restraining, consciously. But when her walls broke down, when she gave into Marie's demands and touch and just _stopped_ …

Well they had some cleaning up to do.

…in many ways.

Still, the three had a very…well calm wouldn't be the word. Casual?

There was laughter and teasing and poking amongst all three of them. Their dinner was sat around the table in the kitchen, computer playing music in the background, and just _chatting_.

And after, as their energies flagged…he gave one last command.

"You're staying here tonight."

Alma smiled. "Yes Sir."

He rolled his eyes. He accepted it from Marie but he'd probably never get used to Alma being so submissive. Which she knew she'd stop soon enough. She wanted to be his _equal_ , not his lesser. She was happy with the idea of being on her knees before him but that was a temporary state. She wanted to be _everywhere_ with him.

Still, she spoke in such a way to be cheeky. He'd slapped her ass in annoyance once over it. And she was cackling after he did. It was those, unconscious physical reactions, that she _lived_ for. They, to her, were proof of his acceptance of her and her advances. Even if yet he wouldn't reciprocate, they were _there_. Considered.

It was just a little longer.

Still, she followed him towards his room when suddenly he stopped and cleared his throat.

"I don't recall giving you permission to leave, _Marie._ "

The woman froze where she was.

Her head whirled around in absolute surprise.

His own, turned ever so slightly to gaze at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I said _here_ , didn't I?"

Her eyes widened, as did the smile on her lips.

She understood.

"Yes. You did, Sir."


	19. Mistress

The fifth day…began strangely.

Feeling like a bit of a walk, Alma opted not to teleport from Seth's house directly to her room at her apartment as she usually did. On request, she was letting her power flow around her ever so slightly, allowing for an enhancement to the bobbing motions her hair performed in the winds of her movement. It went unnoticed, but Alma would later on agree that she could almost fully _feel_ the objects her subconscious telekinetic field was 'tagging'.

It was an interesting sensation, to be in a familiar-yet-unfamiliar location, and have her powers 'marking' random objects and people. The third and fourth days had been spent refining her control and ability to _intend_ while retaining her sense of Being, and the practice was paying off in dividends. As she had previously rarely left her apartment few recognized her, and none of even those few, noticed anything different about the woman, other than she held herself with a bit more confidence than before.

Which meant that her power was released, almost completely, and yet nobody _felt_ anything. It was a major difference from even as much as only a few months prior, where she was still _splattering_ people just by being around them for too long. She'd still yet to consciously experience being in a heightened negative emotional state while her field was unlocked, but that was probably going to be inevitable.

All she could do, she was told, was try to prepare as best she could.

Still, that wasn't the strange part of the morning. The strange part, was when she reached her apartment door, only to find what looked like a personally sealed letter, slid under the crack. She rarely got any mail seeing as her residency at this location was through dubious legality, and that it wasn't in the designated mail flap, or even merely laying on the ground just beyond the doorway itself: had struck her as…abnormal.

Still, she spared a glance around, even allowing her mind to flutter outward slightly, seeking any nearby sources of the missive. Finding nobody giving off the slightest hint of suspicious thoughts – though a neighbor down the hallway was apparently having a combination fuck-and-feed session with his boyfriend – she opened her door and bent down, but didn't pick the letter up.

With her hands, at least.

Seeing as her control had skyrocketed as long as she stopped _thinking_ about what she wanted and just let her _intention_ flow, the letter easily fluttered up to chest-height, bobbing along as if held by her own hand, whilst she closed and locked her front door.

And she was right. The address of her apartment, with her name on it, was written by hand. No return address, and no stamp.

 _The hell does that mean then?_

Oh how she wished the connection went both ways. She'd have loved to contact Seth about the letter but…he was likely in transit and she would go on a rampage if some idiot crashed into him while he was answering his phone, because she was spooked by a friggin letter.

She took this moment, actually, to practice a technique Seth had suggested she try to learn.

His idea, was that she could move things, but movement came in various forms. He'd suggested that when she was comfortable, it would be an interesting experiment to see if she could _sharpen_ her will.

Literally.

So she did. She held the envelope in place by hand, and focused on the very uppermost edges. Closing her eyes, she pictured the envelope in her mind, then imagined a soft glowing green line across its top.

Why green? Because both it reminded her of Mariko's eyes, and because Seth had told her about his personal color arrangements for the various elements. Green, was Air, and air could be sharp as a blade under the right conditions. So to her, a telekinetic blade, should be green.

Focusing on the image in mind, she intoned her will. Her will, was to _cut_. Imagining a smaller, darker green bead on the rightmost edge of the green line, she imagined it taking the shape of the curve of a crescent moon, gliding along the more emerald line, and parting the envelope's paper like a zipper.

A soft ***scrrip*** and her will was done.

The line wasn't as clean as she'd hoped, but she still _did it_. To that, she gave a very wide smile.

However, that smile would fall upon reading said letter.

Which was indeed…hand written.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 18 -** _ **Mistress**_

 _ **To the one who has been controlling me.  
Please meet me at the edge of the treeline overlooking the ocean to the west of Eastwind Beach.  
I have something imperative to discuss with you.  
I will be waiting between the times of 8AM and 12PM each day.  
I look forward to our meeting.  
Sincerely, Your Thrall.**_

"I have to say, now that I know what I'm looking for, your presence is indeed, very noticeable, Mistress."

She had arrived at the requested meeting place. A sheer drop of cliffside overlooking the ocean, jagged rocks below. A dangerous location not terribly far from a nearby beach. In fact, said beach was down the hill to the east. Not visible from the cliff, but within a five minute's walking distance.

There was no fencing or railing in place. No safety measures taken to ensure reduction in spills and fatalities. It was an oversight on the Mayor's part, but the dense trees blocking the way tended to be enough of a deterrent.

The man was dressed casually. Far casually than she'd ever seen him. He held himself…relaxed, if steady.

"…Mistress…?"

He turned and nodded to her, offering her a kind smile.

"Oh yes. It's only fitting to call the one who had taken such direct control over my life, Mistress."

"…I…umm…"

He shook his head. "Look at me, sounding like I'm complaining."

The smile grew wider. "It is a pleasure, to meet your acquaintance properly, Alma. If you hadn't deigned it important to know before now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Maximilian Pauer, your humble servant these past six months."

"Uhh…h-hi…I guess…?"

She was nervous. Very much so.

This was the man she'd been silently manipulating with her powers, for her own benefit.

The one she casually referred to as 'the suit'.

And he was… _aware_ of what she was doing.

"Hello to you too, Mistress."

She nodded shakily.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you here."

"Umm…if it's about…me controlling you-

He held up a hand to stop her.

"Not exactly."

He lowered it. "I must admit, looking back now, its easy to see when it all started. But I can't say I disagreed. You see, you helped me, Mistress."

"I…did?"

He nodded. "Yes. I was making a mistake. The girl I had been seeing on the side, the high-schooler, Lauren. Beautiful girl. She'll be a gorgeous woman in a few years. But I digress. I had been lying to her, and to myself."

"I figured the first part but…the second?"

He nodded again. "You see, at the time, I thought I had merely fallen into the trap many men in my position do. Wife, child, but something missing in the relationship. Thus I went after a younger woman. Veneration and adoration were the goals, or so I thought. But it turns out, I was wrong. I wasn't so much interested in being looked at with amazed eyes, or even the touch or sight of a younger girl's body. I thought I was a pedophile for a while, and had accepted my place, though honestly, I worried about my daughter."

She was the one who nodded this time, though…none of this was expected.

"In actuality…it turns out to be something much simpler, if at the same time complex. You see my interest wasn't in age or beauty…but apparently my kink is having my money spent."

"Wait what?"

That threw her for a loop. But the man, just laughed.

"Those were my thoughts exactly. Well, once the conditioning expired for a time. You see, my ex-wife, she was frugal. Very much so. She came from poverty and had ingrained upon herself to only spend as much as needed and to save, save, save. She didn't have the highest paying career but I felt I brought home a big enough paycheck that we could splurge more than we ever did. But in honesty, I've always been a bit of a thrill-seeker, though admittedly too cowardly to go and do the proper acts like skydiving or bungee jumping and the like. So my thrills came from spending. But I'd learned that I couldn't spend my own money. The knowledge of what I was planning to buy…killed the feeling, so to speak."

She nodded again, actually understanding where he was coming from.

It was like her powers. She couldn't _think_ about what she wanted, otherwise the effect would be weak, if it would happen at all. She had to just let go and _desire_.

"So I'd tried to convince my wife to buy random things she'd mentioned wanting, but she rarely ever did. Thus, it turns out when I met Lauren, the act of giving her money to have her spend on herself, felt fulfilling. It was such a wild ride, honestly. What would she buy next? A new phone? A new purse? A new cd or tickets to a concert? It was always a roulette wheel with her and it felt great."

"You were her sugar daddy."

His grin returned. "Precisely! Just watching the random nature of the things she purchased, it was alluring. But then my desire for her suddenly faded, and I'd found myself blacking out at random, with my wife learning more and more of my random expenses. And then slowly, another woman took their places."

"…me."

A grin and a nod. "You, Mistress. A sudden name and side bank account that didn't exist previously. Watching my personal funding trickle into it, not knowing what it was to be used for, but payment for consultant fees rendered. Consultations I had no memory of ever having. And yet…it felt right. It felt better. I stopped thinking of younger women, I stopped worrying over whether or not my own daughter was safe from my dirty hands. I was able to focus more on my job, and the knowledge that I had no idea who was using that money and for what…it thrilled me."

So…she'd been unknowingly fulfilling a fantasy for this…business man.

… _what is my life?_

"And then one day it suddenly stopped. It was like a fog had lifted. And on that day I was able to see myself as I had become. And in a few hours, I had traced exactly what had happened to me over those months. From the sudden reduction in interest towards Lauren, to the inevitable divorce of my wife, to my continuous payments to some unknown person. And I questioned myself. And I realized…I was content. So when the fog returned, I was made aware of it. My thoughts didn't change, my intentions didn't change, but I felt a…weight. One that I had no notice of, before. And I knew, whatever had taken over my mind, had come back. And I waited…but nothing changed. No sudden increase in payment or frequency, no unexpected desires or drives, no random blackout moments…you were there, controlling me, Mistress…but your control was merely to have me _be_."

"…you were…a long-term experiment."

"Oh?"

Was she really going to do this?

…well he'd been candid with her so far. Only fair she returned the favor.

"My…powers. My telepathy. They weren't always under my control. Hell I'm certain they probably still aren't, to an extent. But you were a…focus point. Directing you was difficult, because I didn't want to let you know I was there. I wanted it to feel as natural as possible. And…previous attempts ended…messily."

"How so?"

"Brains went splat."

…the scary thing was that upon learning that information, the grin turned positively _feral_.

"Interesting."

"If I was in someone's head too long or did too much they'd start hemorrhaging and if I withdrew too quickly at that point their minds would fragment and their brain would just…pop. So…you were a risk. And an experiment. And I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be, Mistress. I'm pleased to know I survived your experiment, and that I was useful for you, even beyond money's sake."

She gave a sad frown.

"But…I have to say your control over me has come to an end."

She nodded. It was only right.

"It's fine. I should have let you go much sooner-

"Not like that, Mistress."

…actually come to think of it, she didn't _tell_ him to call her that.

…ever.

"…eh?"

"I'm dying."

 **(BGM: NieR Automata: Crumbling Lies – Front)**

Her eyes widened.

"And no, not because of you. It's a kidney infection. I could have an operation to remove it but they aren't certain that other parts of me haven't already been compromised."

"…that…sounds like you need to see better doctors."

He grinned. "Probably, but I've gotten second and third opinions. We're not really sure when it started, especially since I don't partake in terribly much alcohol but…" he shrugged. "sometimes we just have bad luck."

She was speechless. Seriously, what could you say to that?

"…why? Why tell me that? You could have…just left it be. Vanished. I'd never have known. I'd probably not even have looked into it."

"Because…this selfish man has a request for you, Mistress."

… _oh…oh no…_

"…you…you want me to kill you. Don't you?"

He sighed, nodding. "Yes."

"… _why?!_ "

"Because my Mistress is the most powerful thing on this planet. And I would rather die at her hands, than to some invisible corrosion."

She just stared at him.

"As I said, it's a selfish request. You have, honestly, been the best thing that's happened to me in the past half year. I was very much likely going to ruin my own marriage, my own misunderstanding of myself would probably had me seen to become a sexual predator on my own god-blessed daughter. My life was heading for an unending spiral of horror, presumed I survived this in the first place."

He shook his head, as if casting aside the past.

"But you took over, pushed me to do better things for myself, things I wouldn't have thought to do. And though you had taken control over my life from me, I was only going to ruin it in the first place. I can't blame you for _saving_ me from myself. Giving me the chance to understand who I was and where I was _actually_ going."

He locked his eyes with her. Blue meeting saddened, horrified blue.

"I learned who you are, Alma Wade. Some digging and some lined pockets, and I learned. You lived a horrible, pain-filled life until now. Nobody knows what changed, but something did. I realized I should have been dead the moment your mind touched mine. But I wasn't. I was made _useful_ to you. And for a simple man like me, one who had no knowledge or understanding of forces beyond what was right in front of my face? To learn that I had been _useful_ to a veritable **Goddess**?"

She could feel it.

He was _happy_.

Happy that he'd been turned into her tool.

…just like **Marie**.

"But I'm now dying. And…as a final selfish request, I would ask that you be my end."

 _ **What. In the seven hells of Saturn. Have you fucking done.**_

 _I don't know._

 _ **What are you going to do.**_

… _I don't know._

"…is that…really what you want?"

Her whisper could barely be heard over the breeze.

He nodded.

"It is, Mistress. I'd rather a quick end, than a protacted agony."

She took a shuddering breath.

… _ **you're actually going to do it.**_

… _ **tch. Fine.**_

"…alright."

He nodded to her, once more. "I've already set things up. My holdings are evenly split between you and my daughter. Forgive me but I felt it prudent to give her the majority."

She shook her head, hands trembling. "That's fine…" came the soft voice. "How it should be, anyway."

He stood ready, a gentle grin on his face.

"…I'm sorry." Came the emotion-laden whisper.

"Don't be. You're doing this selfish Pawn a favor."

She nodded to herself, eyes blurring.

… _ **say what I do, idiot.**_

"…May the Light of the Eternal Jewel that is Mea, guide your way."

The man nodded back, standing straighter. "And to you as well, Mistress."

… _ **now grasp his heart…**_

She reached a shaky hand forward.

Reaching into herself.

Reaching into her connection with _him_.

"Shinra…"

For a brief moment, she had a thought. She _pulled_.

Flashes of life and memory raced through her mind.

Everything he'd felt.

Everything he'd learned.

Everything that was Maximilian Pauer.

Was now _hers_.

 _ **And twist.**_

She would _remember_ him.

He wasn't a _great_ man. But he was a better man than even he knew.

He held no regrets. This was the path he had chosen.

And unknowingly to her, she would do what the one _she_ cherished would do, in this situation.

She would _remember_.

" _ **Banshō."**_

The man collapsed with a soft crunch. Body dropping like a limp noodle, slumping down off the cliffside, into the jagged rocks below. Alma's arm dropped, chest tight, eyes itching.

 _ **Now go to him. Go to his arms. And cry, idiot.**_

Her breathing was ragged and heavy. Her body felt weighted and as if lead.

Her heart was pounding in her ribcage, hands shaking, eyes darting this way and that.

It was all she could do, to grasp the image of _the one who would not judge_.

 _ **Cry…for both of us.**_


	20. MEAning

**(BGM: NieR Automata – Vague Hope – Cold Rain)**

She came out of nowhere.

Just as Karen was swinging the crane, wrecking ball flying to smash through one of the few standing walls of the ruined mall, a loud _aberration_ of sound the world over, heralded the sudden appearance of a dark haired woman wearing a ruffled looking red dress. Shouts and calls responded to her unexpected visage, as the technician tried to halt what was already in motion.

The ball smashed through the remaining masonry, dropping a positively large slab of concrete and twisted metal right on top of where the woman stood. A sense of urgency and sharp worry pierced the veil of absolute misery and dejection that had taken hold of the woman's heart. She looked up, barely registering the world around her, only knowing that somewhere nearby was her rock, her solace in the troubled emotional waters she found herself barely swimming in.

The slab approached at speed, and the pain and anguish _twisted_.

For a brief moment, Alma Wade _regressed_ once again.

…but in the way Selh'teus had expected originally.

The sorrow, the pain, the feeling of failure, the feeling of being _dirty and disgusting and absolutely worthless_ mixed together, fused into a twisted ball of stress and anger and **raw hatred**.

Her fists clenched, her chest tightened, her legs tensed, her heart became a frothing ball of red-hot magma.

"██████!"

The… _incomprehensible exclamation of raw hate_ ripped from her **entire body**. The slab of wall, the rest of the wall itself, three entire floors worth of rubble, remains of shops, twenty yards of pipelines, at least two hundred computers, and countless chunks of glass and other assorted masonry _**evaporated.**_

A distortion of such density it looked like the air itself became a disturbed ocean around her very body, tore through the visible spectrum. Everything the _wave of hate_ touched, was disintegrated. Broken down on a sub-atomic level, crushed into absolute oblivion. Not even dust remained. It all just _vanished_.

 ** _"…Onii-chan…?"_**

… _I know._

But just as suddenly as it came, the wall of rage faded, and the woman strode forward.

Strode.

More like power-walked.

Subconsciously drawing on her sense of _need_ , she…skipped. Not in the natural movement sense, the sense that accompanies joy or mirth or innocence. But in the visible sense. As if she were a recording that was constantly dropping frames, or a character in an online game run by someone with a spotty connection. Her visible shape…would be in one place, and then suddenly closer and closer every few steps.

It wasn't her normal teleportation, as that usually is connected to a visible distortion in the air around wherever she is going or leaving from, as well as a loud noise of displaced air.

At best…as their hearing cleared up from the garbled roar, a soft * **FZZT*** noise could be heard with every jump.

The last skip had her standing in front of a very visibly shocked and mildly worried Seth. Her eyes took in his entire body, before slowly her arms reached up and shunted his out of the way, where she proceeded to latch onto his torso.

And burst into horrible, wailing sobs.

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 19 -** _ **Meaning**_

The appearance of the distressed psychic put a temporary halt on the project. As it was, Jake had to redraw the whole projected timeframe for their demolition progress.

…Alma had literally just pushed their timeframe forward _three whole weeks_ with…whatever it was she did.

Still, they all were able to take an early, and lengthy lunch, during which Alma quietly – and never letting go of his chest – explained what had happened that morning. About meeting the suit, learning he was aware of what she was doing to him, and having to kill him.

Her choked sobs and halted speech patterns had Seth pulling her tighter, while also being smothered by Aranea and Karen alike. Aranea because she knew some of what the woman had gone through, and Karen as an apology for almost dropping half a building on the psychic.

And yet, despite the unknowns, despite her emotional turmoil, being around her _didn't hurt_.

That alone confirmed that Selh'teus _had_ to do something for Marie. His Servant would likely try to object, but he already knew how to counter any arguments she'd come up with.

A Master, a _Lord_ , should reward their servants, for exemplary skills shown. And Marie had _jumpstarted_ Alma's progress over controlling her force by _months_. True, most of the excess bleeding destructive potential was being contained by whatever it was he was to Alma that allowed it, but the previous hour's display proved that whatever Marie had done that day, _stuck_.

And it stuck deep.

It was a little cumbersome, and Aranea took way too much pleasure in rooting around in Seth's pocket – "A little _too_ close to m'dick, 'Nea." – but Selh'teus had carry-walked Alma to a slightly out of the way tree on the small divisor between parking lot lanes, and lean at its roots with her.

The two ladies would be getting their lunch, while he just spent time holding and reassuring her that she did all she could, and did the best possible thing out of a fairly bad situation. She had done what he would have if he'd found himself under those conditions, and that she's so broken up about it proves her growth as a person.

Still, he couldn't help but make a small quip. Fairly tasteless, but it was more a distraction attempt than anything.

" _Wait his name was Max Pauer? What did his mom get it off a hair dryer?"_

She'd slapped his arm for that. Fairly hard actually.

He'd made a suggestion though, that when her control gets better, they take some marble and make a headstone.

" _We'll put it in the inscription: Here rests the soul of Max Pauer. The name you want to touch, but should not be touched."_

* * *

After lunch, Jake had gathered the rest of the Crew, telling them that if they _wanted_ to, they could pack up for the day and not only that but take their sweet time with the rest. Not merely due to Alma's appearance, something that everyone knew was…not the _best_ of signs considering she would have otherwise left everyone alone. But also because whatever she did, put them ahead of schedule by almost a whole month.

Hell as it was, Jake was heavily considering hiring the psychic on for the same reasons he hired Seth.

The man in question, however, made the suggestion that he and Alma work on one of the far sides of the ruined mall, let her pour her emotions into the project, while Karen moved the crane to another location. This way, they could make a more stable foundation for a possible break.

" _City's paying us and it's the Government's fault we got caught up in this shit in the first place. I say we milk it for all its worth."_

The sniffling psychic actually agreed with the idea, mumbling something about needing a distraction in the first place. So as it was, Jake gave the dress-clad girl a safety jacket, one of those garishly colored orange and chartreuse reflective ones, and Aranea had slipped into the woman's airspace and plopped a blue hard-hat on her skull.

To which Seth commented made her look ridiculously cute.

Alma just gave a slightly amused huff of air resembling the remnants of a laugh, while mustering a weak smile. Somewhere in her mind, the part of her that wasn't hurt by her own enforced actions, was wanting to bounce around like a giddy schoolgirl, but that side of her was being ignored.

" _ **Work through the pain. If you need to focus on your hurt and only your hurt at the expense of the world around you, do it. If the people who claim to care about you really do, they'll wait it out, checking in every now and then. And if they don't…well…**_

 _ **You're already in agony as it is. What's a little bit more?"**_

* * *

Upon returning home, Medea had immediately picked up that something was off. Alma gave the other two a brief rundown of what happened, and both of them hugged her fiercely at the end of her tale. Medea dragged her off to the kitchen while Seth pulled Mariko aside.

" _Sir?"_

" _Oh Marie…what am I going to do with you?"_

"… _sir…?"_

" _I don't know what you did or how you did it but whatever you did two days ago_ _ **stuck**_ _, Marie. She vaporized a fourth of the ruins in an explosion of pure hatred and then snapped back to herself right after."_

"… _I…"_

" _So. For that, you've earned a reward."_

He had brokered no argument with her. He wouldn't tell her what his plan was for it was 'a surprise' but he proclaimed he'd figure something out. She tried to protest but he overrode her both as a friend and as her Lord.

He spent the rest of the night with all three girls, Yurine surprisingly curled up in Alma's lap, watching comedy movies, until the psychic passed out from stress-born exhaustion. Medea acquiesced her _time_ with him in favor of having Alma get actual rest, something she did better when she was with them, stating that he would make it up to her later.

" _She needs you more right now. So go be the Master you are and take care of her."_

It was probably only the fact that she had slipped into the Crystarium and was unknowingly being tended to by the blonde woman stroking her mind in a manner resembling doing the same to her actual hair, that kept the nightmares at bay.

* * *

* **CLUNK-CLUNK***

An arched oakwood door stood before them. The words "Mason Manse" inscribed in cursive golden lettering around the edges of the frame. The house wasn't a mansion in the slightest, both women picking up a lingering sense of wry amusement emanating from the words' history.

Much like Jacob Pryce's home, it was a modest two floor house. This one however, painted a dark night sky blue. Signs of wear could be seen on the roofing and some of the gutters. It wasn't _old_ , but was definitely aged.

It was only a matter of moments before the door opened.

"Ahh. Hello ladies. Please, come in."

Greeting the two for this…very unexpected event, was Harold Mason himself.

The event in question was that Alma had been invited by the man, or rather _through_ the man, to a tea party his daughter wanted to host for the 'Red Lady'. He'd admit that he had _no_ idea what his little girl had planned, but she was exited and eager to meet the powerful psychic that had dominated her nightmares, and then eventually, more pleasant dreams.

The invitation had come the day after the death of Max Pauer, the child seeming to have picked up on Alma's distress, and decided to do something about it. With summer soon coming to a close, the child would be returning to school for first grade, and knew she wouldn't have much free time to really spend with the older woman.

As the two women hung their coats they were greeted by an excited looking brunette child wearing a very frilly green dress (accented almost to mirror fae design, Alma had noted) and a brilliant smile. Which dimmed slightly when she noticed someone missing.

"Aww…the Dragon Man couldn't come?"

Both women blinked at that.

"…Dragon…man?" Alma hedged, confused. Yet as if a switch were flicked, the child's cheer returned.

"Yuhuh!"

"She means Selh'teus." Harry chuckled out.

Alma tilted her head cutely, confused. "Why does she-

She caught herself and turned back to the child.

"Why do you call him Dragon Man?"

The smile seemed to grow even wider.

"Because when he roars, things change!"

That got them even more confused.

"What do you mean by that?"

The girl seemed to positively vibrate in place.

"Daddy was going to go away forever. And then the Dragon Man roared, and daddy listened and stayed. He gave me back my daddy, cause he roared really really loudly. Lots of people heard him roar and lots of people changed. Just like a dragon!"

The two women turned to Harry who sighed sadly.

"Sweetie you wanna go set up?"

"Okay!"

The little girl trotted off, a spring in her step.

"What-

"My wife…giving birth to Cheryl took too much out of her. She didn't live past the first week."

Harold's wife was his everything. And like many humans, for a time, he saw his daughter not as a gift, but a curse. She was barely a toddler when he was going to give her up for adoption, drowning himself in his job as a truck driver, before he happened to read the book written by Nothingness Ascendant.

It put things in perspective for him, causing him to realize just how stupid he was being, and to come to cherish the gift that his wife had left him.

"I never told her what almost happened. But somehow she knew. And when I showed her the book, she said it sounded like someone was roaring. So since then, she's called him 'Mister Dragon Man'."

Neither Medea nor Alma had anything to say to that.

* * *

"My gods this is so good."

Fried calamari. Batter fried to a perfect golden crisp and sprinkled with just the right amount of various seasonings, dipped in a dish of slightly steaming marinara sauce. The food of choice for this outing, a prelude to the true event later on.

The reason as to why Selh'teus was not with Alma, visiting the Masons for Cheryl's tea party, was that he was currently with Mariko, on a _date_.

Though his Servant tried to refute the invitation, he decreed he owed her a boon after her work that jumpstarted Alma's control over her force. And thus, Medea went to the tea party in his place, while he took Marie out for dinner and a movie.

The italian restaurant moonlighting as a pizza place (that also served very good pizza) was his chosen venue, the two rather than picking a booth in the back, grabbing a half-booth in the front, where the younger clientele tended to peruse. After he'd _ordered_ her to forget her place as his Servant for the outing, the two had relaxed into a companionable series of discussions about everything and nothing.

Topics such as favorite colors (hers was a forest green), foods (any sushi roll topped with eel sauce for her, sushi in general and belgean wafles for him), and oddly enough, ideal vacation spots (beach resort on a big forested island for both of them). The date had gone well and it was getting close for the second half, when suddenly they were interrupted by a mildly hesitant sounding voice.

"U-umm…Excuse me."

The two turned as one to see a girl standing at their table. Dressed in a grey zip-up hoodie that looked a size or two too big over a pair of what looked like half-leggings under a blue and black checkered skirt, the girl peered at the two of them, amethyst colored eyes darting between Seth and Marie with undisguised nervousness.

Tainted with hope. Not that either of them would have noticed it.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt but I couldn't help but overhearing you two and was…was wondering if…"

She trailed off, looking down and taking a deep breath.

Looking straight at Seth.

"…if you could tell me how to get to the _Chamber of the Empty Sky._ "

Marie loosed a light gasp, eyes widening. Seth's head tilted slightly, gazing into the nearly shimmering irises of the girl in front of him. Taking a moment to evaluate her, he noted she looked young. Early teens, mid at most. Long black hair streaked with brown, making what few strands pooled out of her raised hood look like fluttering candy bars. Fair complexion, not pale but definitely not tanned, and a smattering of freckles spread along the ridge of her nose and under her eyes.

Dark eyeliner and perhaps a bit of lip gloss were the only makeup she wore.

Still. She'd asked a question he didn't expect to be asked.

"…that depends. …What are you?"

"I am Nothing."

"Where are you?"

"I am Nowhere."

"…and Who are you?"

"I am Nobody."

He nodded softly, giving her a sad smile.

"Sorry to say…you'll need a Guide, a Will, and a lot of Determination."

The smile she returned was anything but.

"Good thing I have _my best friend_ to show me the way then."

He sighed and shook his head. "Selh'teus Rodin." Holding out his hand. The girl in question slipped her own out of one of her pockets.

"Angelica Bucket."

Seth grinned and turned to Mariko. "Oh no, it's the _Bucket Woman._ "

Marie just blinked.

"oh come on really? Neither of you got that joke? Gah."

"Bucket woman?"

"Yeah there's this comedy on the BBC that's about this woman who married a man whose last name was Bucket but she's super vain and full of herself and enforces the pronunciation _Bouquet_. She's got like three sisters and dearly wishes to be part of the high-class lifestyle and has a good heart but is insufferable. Most people can't stand her and assume her husband's a saint for marrying her in the first place. They call her the Bucket Woman." He explained before taking a swig of the dregs of his soda.

"…since when does a Big Black Cock have a comedy show?"

Said dregs quickly bubbled out of his nose at the young teen's shockingly innocent sounding, yet dirty worded question.

After a few moments where he half-coughed half-cackled at the question, he wiped his face off and blew his nose to clear it of the annoying tingles and clarified.

" _British Broadcasting Company_. Good lord." He chuckled out.

The girl shrugged and turned to Marie. "And you must be Mariko Kusumi."

Marie's eyes narrowed. "Yes. But how-

"Sorry." The girl-Angelica giggled out. "My friend has a friend who has a cousin who was in your class the day you ripped into that teacher. He told us all about the day 'that quiet girl who was good with birds' cut loose. Showed us your yearbook picture too. You haven't changed much, visibly at least."

Marie flushed, reminded of her…less than graceful explosion.

"So you recognized her then?"

The girl nodded. "Mmhmm. My friend and I both read your book cover to cover, Mister Rodin."

"Seth, please."

She nodded.

"So you recognized me after hearing me mention his book and put two and two together?" Marie asked.

Again, the girl nodded. "I just…needed to be sure. Things got a little dicey for me about a year ago and…" she shrugged. "It helped. A lot."

He sighed. "I'm sorry things got bad enough that my rambled mess of thoughts given form was needed."

She shrugged again. "I'd say grab a chair but we were just about to head out for our movie so…"

She shook her head. "That's alright. I was just about to head off to a party myself anyway."

"Need company on the treck?"

She grinned. "Nah, I'll be fine. I'm pretty tough."

"I believe it."

The two had stood, Marie grabbing her handbag and Seth stretching as Angelica stepped back to give him room.

"But uhh…I've got…a…kind of awkward question?"

"Shoot."

"…can…" She fidgeted a little. "…can I hug you?"

Not the question he was expecting at all. But he understood.

Just like Alma.

Just like Marie.

He just quietly opened his arms and the girl rushed forward. Gently he held her while she squeezed him tight, as if trying to imprint the moment into her very being. She'd burrowed her head into his lower torso and breathed in deep. A low, slow sigh followed, and the girl made to pull back.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

"…and…I'm…"

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry…you had to go through whatever you did that…that made you so approachable."

Both he and Marie were stunned.

"But…and I'm sorry if this sounds bad but…but…I'm glad it was you."

The girl's head rose, staring him in the eyes, tears pooling at the edges.

"Because…"

" _ **Because someone else might have gotten it wrong."**_

* * *

Cheryl Mason was a _riot_.

That's what both women had come to conclude over the two hours they spent with the Masons. Harry loved his daughter through and through and came to that conclusion after almost screwing things up royally. And Cheryl loved her father, and even though she'd never met him personally (that she could remember) saw her 'Dragon Man' as a big brother.

Eventually they started talking about themselves. Medea had given an abridged version of the origin of her relation to Selh'teus, and Alma had done the same. Sadly, Cheryl, much like Medea herself, had seen a fair amount of Alma's previous time as a psychotic murdering psychic, but for her they were just recurring terrible dreams.

Upon explaining that it was because of her own father that Alma had been the way she was, Cheryl had asked if they could bring the 'Dragon Man' over next time so she could give him a big hug.

To her, her big brother, her 'Dragon Man' was the one who kept her from being just like Alma.

"So you only were awake for as long as I am?"

"Pretty much."

"But you gotta do all the icky adult stuff?"

"Yep."

"That's dumb. People are dumb."

"Well the upside is I get to have all the candy I want before bed-time…"

"REALLY?!"

The sheer awe and envy in the child's voice sent Alma into fits of giggles. Nodding wildly at the little girl who pouted and then turned the patented U.P.D.E on her father.

Sadly it didn't work, considering she _wasn't_ an 8 year old trapped in a 22 year old's body.

"But daaaaddyyyy! Cookies! For _dinner!_ "

Even Medea couldn't help but giggle.

"No sweetie you're a growing girl you need your vegetables."

"But they're blegh and icky!"

"Then we'll have the Dragon Man teach your father how to make them taste good." Medea responded.

Again, the child looked shocked. "You can _do_ that?!"

Alma just started cackling again.

* * *

The movie had come to an end.

It was to his immense surprise to find out that a particular rerelease of a few specific Kamen Rider movies were being brought overseas to select theaters. The surprise deepened when he found out one of those theaters wasn't terribly far from him. Thus, knowing both of them were avid Kamen Rider fans, the surprise date culminated in going to see one of those movies.

Mariko, had never seen _God Speed Love_ , seeing as she, much like Selh'teus himself, skipped around to various Riders that she favored. Kabuto was on her list, but like many others, she didn't truly 'click' with the main character.

"It all makes sense now." She muttered to herself, as they left the theater.

"Executive Meddling screwed up the second half of the show's plot, but that movie helps explain _why_ Souji is so…Gary Stu-ish."

She nodded absently. "Yeah…of _course_ he'd be good at everything he did if he dedicated most of his life to training in literally _everything_."

"Seeing himself wearing that belt and armor, knowing that his destiny was to do so, but not knowing what criteria needed to be filled to be _worthy_ of it. A Jack of All Trades yet unlike most he comes close to mastering many."

"So like you."

He blinked. "Pfft I wish I had that kind of dedication."

"Don't you though? To Alma, and us?" She queried, head tilted askew.

"I…" He paused in thinking. "…huh. I mean I _guess_."

He didn't really…think of his reactions or anything about his time spent with the three girls. To him, all three of them happened to be people he was capable of assisting at a time they needed it.

…still. Her words jarred something in him. His thoughts began to turn to it, when they were halted.

By a quintet of maybe college students, clearly having been drinking.

* * *

Night had fallen, and though the girls had been invited to stay for dinner, both refused graciously. Medea had a test the next day and she wanted to do some last minute revising, while Alma was not only her potential 'ride' home, but also wanted to do some last minute practicing with her force.

Now that she had discovered the triggers for both her Fire and her Force, she wanted to see how well she could mix the two.

She had a bag of marshmallows prepared for sacrifice, on her kitchen table.

Still, as the two were bidding the Mason's good night, Alma stiffened very noticeably. The other three halted in what they were doing, Medea turning to the psychic woman with confusion on her face.

"Alma? What's-

"…Marie and Seth are being confronted by a group of drunks."

Medea blinked, before the words settled in. Then her eyes narrowed and her posture shifted.

"Go-

"…wait what?"

A sudden look of abject confusion appeared on the psychic's face, replacing the gaze of building anger.

"… _dafuq_?!"

"Alma!"

She shook her head violently, as if trying to cast something out of her skull. "Ok…that was…weird…"

"Are they alright?"

"Uhh…yeah? I think so. He got tense for a second and then…uhh…"

She was blinking fairly rapidly. Heavily confused but also surprisingly calm otherwise.

"What the hell is a _Cleric Beast_?"

* * *

The two followed the strange girl along the streets.

The confrontation with the drunk college students seemed like it was going to turn violent. While not dressed terribly alluringly, Marie would be hard pressed to deny her impressive chest, and that the forest green halter-top she was wearing underneath the light chiffon black half-jacket, showed a fair amount of cleavage.

It was a _date_ and while she was obedient to his commands, she _still_ wanted him to _keep_ noticing her.

Clearly though drunk they had good taste, but terrible sense. Her annoyance was plain on her face at the interruption, and she could _feel_ the world beginning to shift due to Seth releasing his tagging field, the extra sense he called his 'Event Horizon'. But it was all for naught as suddenly, and quite rapidly, one by one, the street lights just clicked off.

The street was plunged into near total darkness, as the sky seemed to clear almost supernaturally. The moon in the sky shone brightly, sending pale rays to the earth…as the sound of a pair of heeled boots click-clacked on the pavement nearby.

One of the lamps suddenly re-lit, and seconds later, a figure emerged into the light.

A teenage girl, perhaps maybe around fifteen or so, dressed in what had appeared to be a sleeveless black ruffled top with matching laced skirt, a pair of black thigh-high socks, black pump shoes, and a sleeveless long-jacket, silver zipper glinting in the light. Around her neck looked to be a spiked choker, with a dangling pendant that could not be discerned.

But most surprisingly, to both Seth and Marie, was her rose-pink colored hair, styled in a low-hanging side-tail.

She had appeared like a phantom, emerging into the light, with a coy smile on her face.

" _What's this, what's this? It's such a beautiful night. The stars are shining, and the Moon is oh so bright. Far too gorgeous to be wasting on something like that, don't you think? I'm sorry to interrupt, but…you're not afraid of the dark, are you? Perhaps you should run home. For a night like tonight…well, as beautiful as can be; there's beasts all over the shop._

 _And they_ _ **love**_ _such depravity."_

She'd given an ominous smile, and to Marie, it seemed like the _moon itself_ shimmered. Mere seconds later, the dark felt like it swirled in an oppressive manner, before a loud _crunch_ was heard.

Followed by a spine-chilling screech-howl.

Faster than her eyes could track, a large, towering mass of matted grey hair and fur alike, ripped from the shadows and crawl-shambled its way at the five men that had accosted them. They screamed in fright, panicking in their drunkenness and fled deeper into the dark.

Far away from them.

Stunned, the two could do nothing but watch. But it was Selh'teus that broke the shock first, yet with a very puzzled sounding query.

"…was that a **Cleric Beast** …?"

* * *

Afterward, the sky had returned to its previous partly clouded state. The moon reverted from being full to half, and the lights on the street, including ones in the buildings around them, returned.

The girl had introduced herself as Lumina, proclaiming Selh'teus her 'big brother' and requesting their escort to her home. She had revealed she was carrying a few plastic bags from a nearby grocery store, filled with bags of snacks and a few sodas. Her residence, she had said, was only a block away, and she would be quite thrilled if they'd accompany her.

It was that she called him 'big brother', despite only meeting him at this very moment, that had him acquiesce to her request. Well that, and the sheer display of…whatever that was. Still, Marie was nervous, and that nervousness was palpable to him. He'd not let go of her hand, and the silence between the three had become…awkward.

…until it was broken.

" _ **Twulu fata noi  
Dwun hyo hantorrya  
Moi trassi mahyall  
Fsurei haul"**_

Marie stiffened as Selh'teus stumbled a step. The sudden…gibberish coming from the throat of the young girl before them, spoken at an unusual rhythm…he recognized it. Vaguely. Only getting stronger as the girl continued.

" _ **Pla kasi ta mil  
Suw raissil Qun ranta  
Shonm sho loifty Manta"**_

…yes…yes there was something familiar about this. Something very familiar.

" _ **Dhif  
Arl mushon has-twuat fala qwal til  
Dhif  
Ark twu yuri ish no grogha feoino toi wei  
Towait  
Misidhi-yu kashunon qwi no mal-dhuna  
Foi Geiluen doira cutreio"**_

There.

He knew what this was. Unconsciously, a grin began spreading on his face. Slowly, his fingers de-interlaced themselves from Mariko's, before tapping the back of her hand in a slow rhythm.

" _ **Pahl Twu  
Qeis qa rony  
Flatie  
Qu wa fri la  
Sholtia  
Mo syam ga funn foi"**_

Marie was still nervous, but the rhythmic tapping on her hand gave her strength. It was proof that Selh'teus didn't feel threatened at all…though that had its…possible negative connotations considering it came after the girl started sing-tonguing.

Had she been Alma, she'd have been treated to the sound of a strange creaking in his mind, surrounded by soft beats of a drum, and keys of a piano.

He _recognized_ this song's words. And in his own mind, could hear the building crescendo of the instruments accompanying the gibberish.

" _ **Fatllu  
Gwun hailou v  
Watul  
Qlu waity li  
Fotlla  
Dwu fatta foi  
Au wat  
Foa Ho I"**_

The girl's voice tapered off, and she glanced back at the two. Her gaze was hesitant, shaky, uncertain. Her stance radiated weakness and an almost tangible need of acknowledgement.

And fear. Not…fear of a predator or of mortal danger, but fear of rejection, of great embarrassment.

And yet…that fear was allayed when Seth fully divorced himself of Mariko's hand and gave a strong applause.

Lumina felt her cheeks heat up, as she ducked her head. He didn't know at the time, how much that approval meant to her. He would, later, but at the moment, no.

If he did, he'd probably have cheered too. Cause he's _that_ kind of dick.

"You have a beautiful singing voice, Lumina."

The grin just widened, the burning grew stronger, but the wavering warbling weakness in her chest shuddered and became like _steel_. Glowing, molten hot steel, prepped to be morphed into its bladed shape.

Her heart _sang_.

"Thank you, big bro."

"Lucky for you I recognized what you were singing. Still…creepy choice aside, I can see why you picked it."

Marie, confused, spoke up.

"…sir?"

He turned to her, noticing her lost look. He gave a small sigh, retrieving her free hand.

"Amusement Park, from Nier Automata. Game from a while ago. The area is the first place that the main characters encounter non-hostile versions of the machine life-forms they've been battling prior. It's a broken down amusement park that had been partially preserved by the machines there, that basically paraded around wearing clown makeup and throwing confetti and having re-modeled their weapons into harmless balloon launchers. Its _creepy_ because these things are friggin weird and its an abandoned amusement park. Its _fitting_ , because like I said, it's the first place the machine life-forms are entirely non-hostile unless you attack them first."

She blinked at his explanation, letting it wash over her. She nodded.

"And you're saying she sung that…as a sign of peace?"

He nodded back. "It's a really beautiful song. When we get home I'll put it on for you."

"The whole soundtrack is amazing." Lumina cut in, grin still on her face. "But besides that, we're here."

It was a library. Or rather, the back of one.

"My aunt runs the library here. We live in a loft above it. There's a party going on right now up there and…I'd like it if you two would join us, for a little bit." She asked.

Agreeing, seeing as they had nothing else planned for the night and it was still fairly early in the evening, they followed the girl with the even larger grin.

In the end, it was only the fact that she kept calling him 'big brother' or some derivative of it, that led him to agree.

It wasn't _false_ , the taste of those words upon his tongue. Something about the way she spoke it, as if it was _fact_ , had drawn him in. Not of longing or desire of anything other than the urge to understand. But because she said it so _truthfully_. So clear and concise.

And it led him to question.

"Tell me, Lumina… _Who are you?_ "

And almost automatically, the girl turned on the spot, facing him fully, piercing azure meeting earthen brown.

"I am Nobody."

Marie's own eyes widened, the girl stiffening once again.

"Where are you?"

"I am Nowhere."

"What are you."

"I am Nothing."

And thus, he had his answer.

"I see. Carry on then."

The grin returned. "As you say, big brother."

* * *

The old lift came to a stop, Selh'teus stepping forward to pull open the sliding door. The sound of low beats began pulsing through his ears, music playing through the short hallway to the door of the apartment where Lumina resided.

Upon entering, the music only grew slightly louder. A gathering of people, maybe twenty or thirty, scattered about the larger-than-expected space.

"Guys. Guys!"

Lumina called out over the music. A few people turned and waved and saw she wasn't alone. Those few slowly became everyone, with the emergence of a similarly haired woman out of a doorway to the back left. The music was turned down and everyone was looking at the trio.

"Obviously, I'm back. But you'll never believe who I found on the way."

Quiet contemplation, as Lumina backed up, before placing her bags down to the side…and then gently grabbing Marie's other hand. The movement surprised both Selh'teus and Mariko herself, as Lumina pulled her forward.

"I've found her. I found – should she be willing – our **High Priestess.** "

* * *

 _A cult._

He'd slipped outside, stepping out to the balcony at the uppermost portion of the Library's loft apartment. A quick application of a small burst of force and he was on top of the roof. He didn't _have_ to go that way; there was an emergency staircase leading to the roof that had a doorway maybe ten feet from the lift.

But he did. To avoid everyone.

 _A cult._

He'd spoken to the girl's caretaker. One Claire Farron. A woman who used to be a security guard and part-time athlete. She'd been a local sprinter in her hometown. Known for being quick on her feet with amazing reflexes. They called her 'Lightning'.

 _A cult._

She called it an overglorified book club. Which is exactly how most of its members saw themselves. All of them had come together because of a single book. _His_ book. Not that she knew who he was. But she'd told him.

She messed up.

Lumina was barely pushing fifteen, but when she was twelve, she'd overheard Claire venting to a friend of hers over the phone. The worst possible timing. Lumina's mother, _Serah_ , had died in childbirth. Her father was in the army and died overseas. She was alone, but not abandoned. Claire had given up her possible Olympic career and took over running the Library in this part of the city, so she could raise Lumina.

It was difficult, for a while, to make ends meet. And the stress had gotten to her. But her venting was only half-true. They were buried, unaddressed feelings, yes, but not entirely what she felt. But Lumina had overheard her complaining about the 'burden'. And the words stuck.

But Claire had followed up that Lumina must have left when she heard that part, because she had continued that she wished Serah was still alive, because Claire herself didn't know if she was parenting right. She'd had no plans for kids of her own at any point, and suddenly had to raise Lumina, and was _terrified_ she was going to screw up.

Yet Lumina didn't hear that bit, that Claire loved her anyway even if it meant she had to give up everything, and that the girl, despite Claire's bumbling around her, ended up with a personality much like her sister's.

But the damage had been done. Lumina had started to become distant, quieter. And then one day, she snapped.

And Claire _saw_ how the girl felt. Lumina's powers had emerged, and the girl's inner demons came to light. And Claire realized she'd put them there. She had every right to vent, but should have done it in a location far, far away from anywhere Lumina was. Especially since it was only one part of how she actually felt.

After that, their relationship…froze. It reached a stagnate point. Claire had hurt Lumina, and Lumina wanted nothing to do with her. And neither knew how to go forward…

 _A_ _ **cult**_ **.**

Until Claire received a shipment of fifty copies of a certain _book_. She'd leafed through it, deeming it one of the many Self-help styled tomes, before she caught certain passages.

And decided, on a whim, to leave it in Lumina's room.

That book, for the next two years, would become Lumina's lifeline. It didn't _repair_ the broken relationship, but did settle the damage, and give points to heal. Lumina's personality started bouncing back…and after a year, she started making friends on the internet.

Friends…that didn't live terribly far, but _also_ read the same book.

It wasn't long after that, did Lumina end up making a chat room for people who had read the book and been helped by it. And in even less time, the room exploded into a forum, and then a website.

 _A frigging_ _ **cult.**_

Two years after Lumina had first discovered _Knowing the Unknown_ , the many varied readers of that book, would come together, mostly online, and form the **Cult of the Empty Sky**. A group of people who had found _safety_ in those pages, and begun modeling themselves after the writer. As had been explained to he and Mariko, the _Cult_ had chapters all over the country, with smaller ones in other English-speaking parts of the globe. There had been a French and a Spanish translation made by readers, put on the site for free, and according to one of the other partygoers, a Japanese one was being worked on currently.

The goal of the Cult, or as they called themselves, the overglorified book club, was to do for others what the book did for them: accept and acknowledge those whose lives became askew. Guide through kindness, through understanding, through simply _giving a shit_. To promote the growth of humanity, one person at a time. To be the flickering lights in the darkness. To be the voices on the winds.

To effectively attempt to change the world, by helping others Know Themselves.

* * *

So he sat. Alone. Contemplating what he'd learned.

A cult had formed around his book, his ranting rambling words. He'd expected a few fans. Mariko alone was proof enough that he'd done something right by listening to Medea. But…the book…wasn't _just_ for them…

But for him as well.

"… _ **Because someone else might have gotten it wrong…"**_

He wrote it…because he had been hurt. He had been confused. He had…lived. Lived through suffering. He'd killed his own mother. Not fully intentionally but he _did_ it. His abuser was removed, he'd struck back, fought back, lashed out at the ones who'd hurt him, _retaliated_.

And then once he was _free_ , he tried to _let go_.

…but his experiences left him damaged and broken. That pain, that knowledge of solitude and loneliness…

Others may have had it worse but he was not them. He was he, and he knew only what he knew. And what he knew, was pain enough, to want it to be put to end before it _shattered_ anyone else.

Medea knew the most, through personal experience. Alma was getting close due to the bond that showed his thoughts, but her own wish to _Be Better_ kept her from digging too deep. And Mariko knew the least, but _felt_ his pain in his words, resonate with her own. It's what led her to both believe in him, as well as fall for him.

But none of them… _really_ knew how close he'd come to never meeting any of them. How close the _shattering_ came to being _death_ and not just mental dismemberment.

He was one of the _lucky_ ones. He would always consider himself that. Some quirk of fate, some twist of being, and instead of dying like so many others, instead of casting aside his painful life like so many others, he was able to stand up.

The damage was done, the shell had been cracked. The inner world was blasted and rent apart. But he was able to stand. Barely. But yet stood he did.

He had peered into the depths of the Abyss and something responded.

And as he grew, he came to understand. That's why he let Medea push him into writing the book.

…honestly where the fuck was Alma?

He'd half-expected her to have teleported to his si-

"Told you he'd be up here."

His head turned slightly. Slipping through the doorway that was the _safe_ exit to the roof, was both Lumina, and-

"…Angelica Bucket…?"

The brunette smiled at him.

…though his own confusion and muddled thoughts kept him from seeing exactly how _deep_ that smile reached her eyes.

"You remembered my name. 'can call me Lica though, if you want."

"This was the party you were talking about then?"

"Mmhmm! I would have invited you along but you said you were on a date so…"

He nodded softly.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

Angelica shook her head, while Lumina just gave a sad smile. The two girls had walked over, approaching his position of having been sat down and leaning against the slightly raised edge of the roof.

"Your date's been kept busy by the others," Lumina began "And I kinda noticed you weren't around. Knew you wouldn't just abandon her like that, so I figured you were _somewhere_ nearby."

"We remembered you said you weren't too well chuffed about crowds." Chimed Angelica. "So I figured you'd be on the roof. Somewhere close enough to drop in if you were needed, but away enough to get your head straight."

"I said too much in that thing." He sighed out.

The two wore matching grins. Seriously, they could have been sisters.

"Do you mind if we sit with you?"

He shrugged. "S'not like it's my roof or anything."

Knowing well enough what he meant, the two girls plopped down on either side of him. Then, surprising him, they both nodded to each other, grabbed an arm, and threw it around their shoulders, while they burrowed into his sides.

"uhh?"

"You looked like you needed a hug." Spoke Lumina.

"And friends." Followed Angelica.

"I kinda dumped a lot on you with the whole Cult thing huh? Sorry about that." Lumina again.

"I…knew…that it would _reach_ some people…that's half the reason I wrote it."

Angelica nodded in his right side. "So you could do all you could, to stop others from hurting like you did."

"…mm."

"But you weren't expecting _that_ , were you."

He shook his head.

"We've kept it pretty tame. We're following your guidelines as best we can. Despite the instruction being to find our own meaning, you were pretty descriptive about everything." Lumina followed.

 ** _"Had to be. It's not like you had anyone doing that for us."_**

He nodded, both to Lumina's statement as well as the voice of Wes in the back of his head. Angelica gave a soft twitch of her shoulders, before shifting slightly. He brushed the action aside as her adjusting herself.

"I spent a lot of my life alone. In the abstract sense. No guides, no real useful teachers…no idols or role models. Just shitty adults and their shitty selfish attitudes and their blanket view of how they wanted me to fit into their narrative. And I…"

 ** _"Almost died from it."_**

Another twitch from Angelica, only a little more violent. His head turned to her.

"Sorry…bit of an itch."

He snorted. "I know that feeling."

Ultimately he sighed.

"It's just a little tough to wrap my head around…anyway aren't you two going to be missed?"

Both of them shook their heads.

"Nah, everyone's used to me vanishing every now and then. I didn't really look like it but actually I'm a little shy with larger groups. Trying to get over that though." Lumina confessed.

"And half the time Lumi's the only one who knows I'm there. Seriously, I don't _try_ to be invisible or anything, I just like watching stuff over speaking more often than not. The way they act when I talk you'd think I was a _phantom_ or something." Angelica snarked.

"So we can just, sit like this for a little while longer, right?" Lumina hedged.

"I don't know how you two are comfortable like that…"

"Awe come on. It's like you don't _want_ to sit with two cute girls or something." Angelica teased.

"Girl I've already got three women in my life."

Lumina grinned. "And now you've got two more!"

"waaay too young."

The two girls just laughed, squeezing him tighter.

* * *

"Who are you?"

His voice was muffled by the others. But still he stood at the entrance, slowly being noticed by more and more.

"Who are you?"

His query was repeated. Some tried to reply but were ignored. He saw not the individuals, not yet. But the whole.

"Who are you."

The voices grew quieter. Conversations slowing to a halt as more of the occupants took notice of him.

"Who are you."

It had become less of a query, more of a statement. A demand. A call for definition.

"Who are you."

It was quiet. It went noticed that Marie had stood next to and slightly behind his right side, Lumina ahead of her, and Lica at his left.

" _ **Who Are you."**_

He had put _authority_ into his voice now. Having gained the attention of everyone. All eyes were upon him. All asking the same question. Even if they recognized him as 'that guy who came with their Priestess', they didn't really know who he was.

…only that Lumina seemed to be quickly engrossed with him.

Ten minutes after the girls had sat down with him, Marie had made her way to the roof. She'd been overwhelmed by the _support_ the group had shown her, the belief and adoration of her actions following her emotional breakdown in that classroom. But she was welcomed. Cherished. _Thanked_.

So she had spent her time, surprised, confused, _giddy like a schoolgirl_. But she knew her _place_. And her place was at her Lord's side. She found him, sitting with both the girl who had led them here, as well as to her surprise, a second girl. The one from the restaurant. The three looked…peaceful.

They were talking quietly, but her Master, her Lord, looked…

There was something about him. Something that made her chest feel tight. Not with fear or worry, but…recognition. Almost joy.

The same feeling she got, when he finally _looked_ at her.

And now, she stood behind him, almost as if…

…as if she had taken her proper place.

There was that… _feeling_. A niggling sense at the back of their minds. A lingering tell that said that they _knew_ him.

But to truly know…they had to _answer_.

And thus…they did.

" **We are Nobody."**

Claire was rather shocked and a little horrified. They had all spoke as _one_.

Like a class drawn to obedience.

…like a _cult_.

" _Where_ are you."

" **We are Nowhere."**

The response began to dawn on her. She'd read the book too after all. It did nothing for her, not the way it did them, not the way it did Lumi. But she'd read it all the same.

If only so she could know what it was her niece gained from it.

" _What_ are you."

" **We Are Nothing."**

She watched him blink once. Stoic.

And then he sighed.

"…for now."

The trance was broken. But still, there was silence. The girls took a step back as he began to pace the width of the small entranceway.

"You are right. You are nobody. Unimportant to the world at large. Mere specs in the grand scheme of things. You are nowhere. This place, this planet, this city, this room, is pointless. Just snippets of soul gathered in time and locked in space. You are nothing. Meaningless. Pointless. To all but yourselves and perhaps each other."

Wow that was _mean_. But he wasn't done.

"That is the Truth. And yet…it is still only temporary."

He let out a loud sigh, shoulders dropping.

"It was never written in the book but…One day. One day your answers will change. Don't fight it. Don't run from it. But don't _chase_ it. Let it come. Let it happen naturally. One day your answers will change. You will be someone. You will be somewhere. You will be something. Some of you, have found an answer. Some of you, may have even found multiple. And very few, but still possible, you _have them all._ "

He stopped and his gaze swept over every single one of them. Locking eyes with everyone at least for a second at a time.

"One day." He continued. "You will have your answers. It doesn't matter when. It doesn't matter how. It doesn't matter why, or what order they come in. You **will** have them. You will **know** them. You will **be** them."

He stood tall.

"Be it today, tomorrow, or just before the moment of your inevitable demise; you will have your answers. And on that day. In that moment. At that instant between instants. You will stare into the face of the Void, and when it asks who you are, you won't _need_ your answers. Because you will have only one."

" _ **I Am."**_

Claire was floored.

Because _even she spoke with them._

He just nodded.

"And on that day, you too, will am become, _**Nothingness Ascendant.**_ "

And it was at that moment, that everyone came to the realization of _who it was that was stood before them._


	21. Mother

The meeting had gone well enough, considering.

Madeline Fox, James Fox's wife, and Samantha, his daughter, had finally come to retrieve what personal effects Becket had been holding on to for them. Madeline, not wanting to fully face her husband's death, had been putting it off as long as she feasibly could; something Becket and Stokes (who had come for everyone's support) understood. But little Samantha wanted to put an end to things, showing a maturity far beyond her eight years.

And so, They had come to Becket's apartment. And while the meeting was emotional and tense…it ended peacefully.

 ***shouuu** _ **RIIIP***_

"Hey Michael I wanted to-

At least…until Alma appeared.

Eyes wide at the sudden arrival of the psychic woman, her unfortunately loud teleportation causing both Madeline and Samantha to jump out of their seats in fright, Becket swiftly slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand, sighing.

"Oh you have guests. Oops."

Rolling his head back and glaring at the ceiling, Becket sighed.

"Oops she says. Just oops."

Alma scrunched her nose up in annoyance. "Well it's not like I have a direct line to your head! You're you, not Seth, y'know! Or that I _planned_ on barging in on…whatever this is."

"Alma…"

"Wait." Suddenly Madeline spoke sharply.

"Your name is _Alma_?"

Becket suddenly felt great panic fill his heart. He tried to push the thought to Alma not to acknowledge the question but was too late.

"Yessss…?"

"You killed my daddy." Samantha suddenly spoke, softly, but directly.

Staring, without blinking, at Alma.

Her own eyes widening, she took a look at the two, before…

" _ **When you make a mistake, be it because of you yourself or because you were led to it by someone else…own it. Own your part in it. Accept that Truth. You messed up.  
This way, when someone else messes up, you'll be better able to see how much was them, and how much was that chucklefuck Dave not listening."**_

"…I killed a _lot_ of people, little one. You have to be more specific."

And now Becket was gaping at her. "Alma! You can't just-

He was silenced.

Not merely by Alma's hand, but _Samantha's_ as well.

"My name is Samantha Fox."

Alma closed her eyes, sighing. "…I see."

Madeline looked like she was fit to burst. Her face was turning red with mounting rage but…

But Samantha never stopped looking at Alma.

"Why?"

Why did she kill him. All those people. Why did she get to live when her father didn't.

Those and more questions, condensed into a single word.

"Because back then, I didn't know any better."

"What do you mean?"

"You're…seven?"

"Eight."

"Eight. So was I. When my own father locked me away. And left me behind. I was left alone for years, scared, asleep, until I got older. And older, and older. But he never taught me what was right or what was wrong. He didn't teach me _anything_. So all I knew, when he set me free, was hate. Hate and anger and pain and fear and all sorts of horrible icky feelings."

Samantha continued staring.

"You ever touch mud? Get it all over you? Or maybe the goopy stuff at the end of an egg? My mind, my feelings were like that. Slimy and icky and gunked up and blegh. I could only cry, I cried and cried and screamed and _hated_. You ever get mad enough to stomp your foot, so mad you feel like you're going to burst like a balloon? That was me, every day, even in my sleep, even when I was stuck."

The little girl nodded.

"I didn't know anything but myself and that I was forced to have children I couldn't even hold. Without knowing why, without being told or taught or shown anything. And I wanted them back. I wanted them back so badly. And when I saw your father…I saw you. I saw you and I saw how much he loved you and I _hated_ him for it. Because it wasn't me. It wasn't my father and it wasn't me."

"I saw."

Now, Alma's eyes widened again. Everyone's did save Madeline's.

"For the last year, Samantha has been having horrible nightmares. She says she kept seeing James'…" She choked up.

But Samantha was stoic.

"…show me."

Everyone blinked. Even her mother was surprised.

"It's…it's not-

"I've already seen it from his eyes. I want to see it from yours."

Alma sighed. She wasn't exactly sure how to but…

 _Break the Rock._

"Close your eyes." The child did so.

"Take a deep breath." The child did so.

"Watch."

…they _all_. Did so.

* * *

Cold.

Wet.

Coldwetcoldwetcoldwetwarm. Warm? warmwarmwarmsadwarmsadcoldsadsadsadLOUD!

Where? Where! WHERE! WHEREWHEREWHEREWHEREWHEREWHEREWHERE **WHEREARETHEY?!**

Why? whyarenttheyherewherearetheywhydidheleavemewhydidhetakethemwhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhyWHY!

Wait

….whosthere?

Yourenothim.

Whoareyouwhoareyouwhoareyouwhoareyouwhoareyou?

" _ **Stay away from her she's**_ _ **mine!**_ _ **"**_

Yours?

 _A small child._

Notminenotminenotmine.

 _ **WHY?!**_

 _ **WHYDOYOUFEELGOODWHYDOYOUFEELHAPPYWHYAREYOUSMILINGWHYNOTMEWHYNEVERMEWHEREARETHEYWHEREDIDYOUTAKETHEMGETAWAYFROMME  
IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU!**_

* * *

It was…intense.

The most…basic of thoughts, of feelings, muddled and twisted and hazy. Barely any comprehension of what was felt or heard or even thought. It was like wading through a half-dreaming, half-drugged state of confusion.

And yet to little Samantha, it made perfect sense.

So when everyone suddenly snapped out of the trance, induced by the _massive_ pressure brought by Alma's psychic field, it was Samantha, who recovered first.

And her eyes locked onto the psychic.

"…you took my daddy away."

"I did."

"But your daddy walked away from you."

"He did."

"You were locked up. In that bubble."

"I was."

"Why was he there?"

Suddenly _all_ of their minds had the imprint of a single person.

And the unfettered sense of _hate_.

"A walking mistake named Genevieve Aristide. She was the _real_ reason your father died. I was wandering, I was broken, I was confused, but I didn't _care_ about anything but finding my babies. But because she's a greedy, soulless, disgusting piece of selfish filth, she kidnapped your father and his friends."

"…daddy was kidnapped?"

Alma nodded. "Yes, sweetie. Your father was kidnapped by that evil woman. His natural but weak psychic power was enhanced, along with Michael's and everyone else but his girlfriend's, and they were…"

Alma fidgeted in place a moment, trying to think of the words.

"…imagine…you're watching television…but then the phone rings. You can ignore it a little bit, but nobody's home but you, and you're not expecting any calls. So it just rings and rings and never stops."

"She turned daddy into a phone."

Not literally, Sammy.

"Yeah."

Oh goddammit Alma.

"Wait what do you mean?" Came Madeline, confused.

"Aristide wanted to capture Alma. It was Aristide that opened the vault that held Alma captive for years, trying to restart an old military contracted super soldier project. But Alma's…soul, I guess, remained, like a ghost. And when Aristide opened the vault, Alma's psychic presence was let out." Becket spoke up, for the first time in a while.

"When that explosion last year hit, that was the underground facility's nuclear reactor going critical, which knocked all of us out when we were redirected to escort Aristide into protective custody. Somehow Aristide was perfectly fine, but we were unconscious and experimented on."

"Michael and his team, which your daddy was on, were turned into…loud sirens, to me. I was looking for the presence of my children. Err…" Alma bit her lip in a rather cute way.

"People…people's minds have different feelings to them. Like…the difference in feelings between towels. Some feel rougher, some fluffier, some even somehow manage to feel sticky even when clean, right?"

Samantha nodded rapidly, fully understanding. "And they feel weird on your feet or your legs sometimes, like scratchy titches!"

"Exactly!" Alma cheered. "People's minds are like that, widely different in feeling, only it's in my head more than my body."

"So you were looking for the feeling of…the people your babies grew up into? And this…ugly lady turned daddy and his friends into more towels?"

"Pretty much. They were so bright and loud and irritating I couldn't look away. They were distracting."

"…so if the ugly lady didn't mess around with daddy's head…you wouldn't have noticed him?"

Alma shook her head. "Probably not. The reason she messed with their heads was to _force_ them to be noticeable by me. Your daddy probably at best would naturally have had some instinctive knowledge or reactions to some things, the thing that people call a gut feeling, would be more exact, for him, but I never would have even cared he existed unless he _actually_ got directly in my way."

Samantha frowned. "…so you were a gun."

Alma's head tilted. But even without her powers, she understood.

"Yes. I was the gun."

"And the ugly lady was the hand?"

"She is."

"…and you're not like that anymore?"

The psychic shook her head. "The last year…has been spent trying to not be that way…and I now have the help of a _very_ wonderful man, guiding me to never being like that ever again."

"…then daddy was right to forgive you."

Incredulous looks all around.

"Sammy, honey wha-

"I told you." She said, never looking away from Alma. "Daddy came to me in my dreams. He said he died, trying to save a little girl who was turned into a monster. A little girl who had her own daddy walk away from her because she was different. The monster she was turned into, killed him. Not because she wanted to, but because the monster was like a wild animal. Like a big wolf, only the wolf could smash buildings and eat cars. (Alma's nose scrunched up at that) He said he forgave her, because the little girl just wanted a family, and so did the monster, but the monster couldn't control itself, and the little girl was too scared."

Alma sighed. "…that's basically what it was like."

Samantha nodded sharply once.

"You took daddy from me."

"Yes."

"But your own daddy walked away."

"Yes."

"But I still have mommy. You don't have one…do you?"

"I…"

Suddenly the phone rang in the other room.

"Sorry. I'll get that really quick." Becket got up, slipping past.

Alma shrugged and shook her head. "…I never met her."

"So you had nobody?"

"Not until now."

Again, Samantha nodded sharply. "I'm angry at you…for taking away my daddy. But…you were just a gun. Like daddy's gun. And you didn't _want_ to. …so…I'm angry at you…but I forgive you…because…neither of us have daddies now…but I still have a mommy…and that's not fair. It's not fair at all…because you didn't want to take my daddy…but you did. And we both have to deal with that."

Alma sighed. "…Seth _did_ say that death does strange things to children…"

Becket chose just then to stumble back into the room.

Yes.

Stumble.

"…Michael?" Alma looked at him, concerned. Gently she reached out and tried to 'knock' on his mind. Before she could even get 'close' though, she _felt_ the spiraling whirlwind of confusion in his head.

"…that…that was Betters."

"What's wrong?" Stokes pushed, now worried.

"I…I don't really know…"

Confusion.

"But…he called cause…well…"

"There's a woman…who just showed up at F.E.A.R's front office…asking about you, Alma."

Her head jerked back. "Dafuq for?"

"…She's claiming she's your **Mother.** "

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 20 -** _ **Mother**_

A day later saw Seth and Alma arriving at a fairly well priced hotel, meeting the woman who had appeared at FEAR headquarters, asking about her 'daughter'. A woman who had not existed in Alma's life prior, to the point where she remembered nothing about her, and never once did her father mention her.

A woman, that…actually did resemble Alma slightly. Pale, like her 'daughter', dark but heavily greyed hair tied in a low ponytail by red ribbon, blue eyes like Alma's, and…

And she spoke with a distinct British accent.

She introduced herself as Alessa Gillespie, to which Seth quickly retorted "please tell me you weren't born in Silent Hill."

The answer, was no. She was born in Bristol.

"Wait does that mean I'm british?"

"No, dear, you're American."

"But you're-

"Alma. American born children are automatically American citizens. Besides, the accent doesn't come from birthplace but who you learn to speak from."

"Oh."

Neither Seth nor Alma truly believed her, especially since the woman claimed to be telepathic, but for some reason failed to read Seth at all. She did, however get Alma's thoughts, which was enough for her 'daughter' to at least believe the supernatural aspect.

Still, though she was almost 70, the woman held herself at a stance that suggested strong living, and for a woman that could be his grandmother in age, she still retained some aspects of youthful beauty.

"So why now? Why after all this time?"

Alma looked once at Seth and turned back to the woman claiming to be her mother, nodding.

"You her boyfriend then?" the woman replied.

"Something like that." Came the swift, yet evasive answer.

Alessa's right eyebrow quirked. Not just in interest or irritation, but actual confusion.

She couldn't read him so simply.

Alma was like a brightly lit beacon. Her thoughts wild and rampant but oh so sadly readable. And she could feel it, a direct link to the man beside her. But attempting to go straight to his mind…its like he wasn't there. Interesting.

The woman sighed, leaning back in the loveseat.

"Because the last thing I saw tonight was the sky caking over in rivets of blood, fire dropping from the heavens, demons of the make of a bloody deranged artist, all backed by the shrill sound of a baby's cry."

The two blinked at that.

"I saw the wave of tangible hatred and rage ripple through the air like the writhing tides of a stormy beach. I watched people burst into flame, into sprays of blood and gore at random. I saw my apartment shudder and crack, before the ceiling collapsed upon my head. I felt the wooden beam stab through my arm, the plaster sting my eyes, as the concrete - and my bathtub - crushed my skull."

She sat straighter, suddenly.

"And then the next thing I knew, I was snapping awake, twenty miles from where I died, on my cousin's couch, in the middle of a Christmas movie, that I'd never seen before, because the Blu-Ray release happened a week after I left from the holidays."

"Sounds like a shit dream." Came the sarcastic counter from Seth.

"Believe me, kid, I know Time Travel when I _live_ it."

"Time travel?" Alma blurted. "You…show up, claiming to be my mother, because you think you traveled through time?!"

"Not think, dear. Know."

"Prove it!"

"She can't."

Alma, and Alessa both, turned to Seth.

"Time is fluid. And even if it weren't, its entirely possible that just her mental presence in our time period, knowing what she believes she knows, altered its flow ever so slightly. Her foreknowledge, assuming she has it, may be 100% accurate, or completely wrong, on a totally random vector."

He turned to Alma.

"Considering what our Oracle did not long ago, the idea of this woman coming back from right now, in the future, is valid. And given that she outlined a lot of what was going to happen in the Bad Future…"

"…it's entirely possible." Alma muttered, with a bit of annoyance.

"Your father, Harlan, convinced me to keep you." The woman broke in, softly.

"We were young. I was twenty-five, he was twenty-two. Neither of us were ready for children, but he wanted to try, since it was already happening. He was…well he used to be a sweet-talker. A real charmer. And then…well…I had you. It wasn't a difficult birth, but…"

She shrugged.

"Despite the attempt for about a year, I couldn't handle it. Having a child was not something I'd intended to do any time soon. I had too many things I wanted to take care of, too many goals to fill. We argued for months after you were born but in the end, I gave him full custody of you and left."

"But _why_?! He could have used a psychic to help me-

"He didn't know, sweetie." Alessa interrupted.

"…what?" came Alma's whispered reply.

"I never told him. He always just thought I was really good at remembering things, and I let him. You weren't _born_ with powers, Alma. You apparently awakened them later on in life. But what I need you to understand, is that in my-…in _our_ family, I was the only one who had them. I was the outlier, not the norm. And I had them since I was a baby. Every now and then I'd poke your mind to see if you responded with any sort of twinge of psychic ability and there was nothing at all. That's why I was able to walk away. I knew Harlan loved you dearly and honestly? I was so caught up in myself I wouldn't have been able to."

Alma's fists clenched. Her mind was reeling. The woman before her was so…so…

"Shitty." Seth said, cuttingly. "But logical. An idiot's logic, but still logic."

Again the eyebrow rose. Alma turned to him, tears and _fire_ in her eyes. But he just shrugged.

"Better the parent unable to handle child, leave them in the hands of one who can, than to try and fail and fail and fail, building resentment towards both self and offspring."

He turned to Alma, stroking her tears away. "She made a common mistake. But in the end, before it got too late, realized she wouldn't have been able to be _mother_ , so instead, left you with the one she thought could at least be _father_. She was wrong, obviously, but…" he shrugged again, before turning to Alessa.

"Why didn't you check in on her?"

"Honestly? Harlan had cut all ties with me after that, and without that reminder, I practically forgot I had a child out there in the world. As far as I knew, she was in good hands, and I could finish my degree and go for the profession I wanted."

Seth nodded, even as Alma tensed next to him. He gently pat her hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb.

"So the sequence of events is that you two had Alma, but because she didn't display any psychic ability immediately, you thought she was a normal girl. One you didn't really want in the first place, but tried to keep up with, only to have the self-awareness that you couldn't. And because you didn't tell the idiot that you had powers, he had no way of knowing that you could have helped Alma in any way, so even if you _were_ of a mind to give the whole motherhood thing a second go, it wouldn't happen."

Alessa nodded softly. "Well put." But Seth wasn't done.

"So that leads to now, where you are aware of Alma's presence as a psychic, because you lived through the Bad Future and…" he trailed off, eyes narrowing.

" _ **You think it has something to do with that point where Alma was pushed to change?"**_

 _ **Something or someone showed her the future that was going to happen if she went through with her instincts rather than trying to think.**_

"And I don't…remember what it was." Alma suddenly spoke.

Seth nodded. "But it spooked you enough that you spent nearly a year trying to get control over yourself."

" _ **Think it was her moover?"**_

"It could have been…" Alma hedged, responding to Wes.

But Seth shook his head. "No. Because the lady in front of us said she reset too late."

"How do you figure?"

" _ **Elaborate."**_

Both Alma and Kira queried him at the same time.

"If it was Alessa doing the warning, then she would have reset before the explosion of Origin. But she reset to _after_ the explosion, and after you'd already made the decision to change for the better. So something that wasn't her, warned you about the Bad Future, but Alessa didn't reset until months later, while you were in the middle of trying to keep yourself together."

 _I feel as if I'm missing pieces of this conversation._ The woman thought to herself. But still, though she couldn't read him directly, she _could_ read Alma, and her daughter's mind was _racing_.

"I'm…having a hard time following, honey." Alma admit.

"Ok, it's like this. If I'm right, at least. Alessa's resetting is only partially tied to whatever showed you the Bad Future. In that, if it were her presence that showed it to you, in any form, then she would have woken up before the explosion that set you free. _Any_ point before. And if that was the case, she would have put foot to ass in getting ahold of the idiot, right?" He turned to Alessa for that one.

And she nodded.

"Yes. If I'd known at any point before then, about Alma, Harlan would have definitely had a lot to answer for."

"Which means your awakening had nothing to do with her."

"So why is she _here_? _Now_ of all times?" Alma grumbled.

"Honestly? Semi-random chance." Was the response.

"Semi-random?"

"The semi part, comes from that it was clearly tied to your awakening in some way. She died in the Bad Future, and then suddenly she gets thrown 'back' into the new timeline where that future, if for some ungodly reason is still a thing, is drastically delayed. That it happened when it did, how it did, is likely because that was the only point in the new timeline that her mind was available, and you were stable enough, for it to happen."

"…why would I need to be stable for that?"

"Because you're leaking, dear." Replied Alessa.

Alma blinked. "…leaking? Dafuq?"

Again, the eyebrow rose. But before she could explain, Seth cut in.

"I dunno about leaking but I was implying that because Alma's _that powerful_ a psychic that she can basically block things out the world over, subconsciously. And that point where she started stabilizing, was when she was trying _not_ to spread her field into the world, thus letting your consciousness slide into your current body."

"I suppose that's a fair assessment."

"Right. Leaking?" Alma pushed.

"Your mind, dear. You're practically broadcasting your thoughts at high volume."

Alma blinked. "…I…am?"

"Yes. And it's at a constant rate. The odd thing is it doesn't have the _pressure_ most leaking psychics have. Just the noise. Its loud enough to drown out the passive tones of other telepaths, of which there were two in this building alone."

"It is? There _are_?!"

"Dear, you're like a fog horn on a sunny day. Not so much intrusive as it is continuous and completely random while being unignorable."

Alma nodded absently. "Like a dog licking its balls in the middle of a crowded room where everyone tries not to notice it but its just so random that you can't help but watch."

Seth snorted.

Alessa blinked. "…yes…right. Anyway. It is a problem. Not merely because it stops you from properly being able to detect others like us, but because it broadcasts who and where you are at all times…along with who you are with."

"Hmm." Was Seth's response to Alessa looking pointedly at him.

"But…is that…really a problem?" Alma asked, genuinely confused.

"Dear, your mind is an open book. Written in excessively large font. That talks. Someone could easily slip into your mind, ferret out your secrets, and then hunt down any connections you had to do the same to others."

"What do you mean?"

Alessa sighed. It seemed she would have to do something…distasteful.

She looked her daughter in the eyes.

And _pushed._

* * *

Blackness.

That's all she saw.

Blackness and silence.

She couldn't see anything. Not even herself. There was no sound. No noise no movement no nothing. She felt her head turning left and right. Felt her clothes weighing her body down as she lifted and moved her arms. She was she, she was existent…but nothing else was.

Everything was black. She couldn't even see her own body. Felt it. But not see it.

And then **red**.

She jolted in place, seeing the _blackness_ move. It moved…revealing a single, glowing red eye, pupil slit like a rabid beast's.

She felt her own eyes widen, as she took a 'step' back.

The eye moved. Not in that it turned, but in that its location was _no longer static_. It rose, higher, and higher, angling until it was looking down at her.

And then it crinkled.

But the feeling she got (she could FEEL now!) was not joy…but _hunger_.

She could do nothing but _scream_ as the blackness shifted once again, a gaping maw of rows of razor sharp teeth, lashing out and engulfing her.

* * *

Alessa Gillespie padded into the hotel's bathroom. Her guests, her daughter and her daughter's keeper…boyfriend…whatever he was, having left. As soon as the door closed, she collapsed onto the sink, arms shuddering.

Her stomach heaved inward, her breath caught in her throat, and her chest caved as a torrent of red-tinted bile erupted from her mouth.

For over a minute, the room echoed with the sounds of hoarse gagging, the splatter of wet upon marble, pained coughing, and low sobs.

Then the squeak of a turning faucet, and the soft fizz of rushing water from a tap. The splitter-splash of liquid slapping flesh after the noise of fluid being spat.

The woman, panting heavily, pulled her hair to the side, looking in the mirror.

Where a series of red welts had appeared on her pale flesh.

She shuddered again, looking up, only to freeze.

Letters, written in blood, had formed on the glass.

 **Dii iisk um hin ruus** _ **  
Fang mea houd corpu yor  
**_ _ **My fangs around your neck**_

And the face of a pink haired, pale skinned, _glowing red eyed girl,_ _ **giving a feral grin.**_

* * *

Two days later saw Seth in contemplation. Surprisingly keeping it from the bouncing and panting women before him. Marie had gotten his permission – not that she needed it, he told her, to which she disagreed; "I wouldn't be much of a Servant if I acted against orders." "You already did once though." " _Exactly_ , sir." – to join Alma and or Medea in their morning workouts of Stepmania and light weights and stretching.

But he _was_ watching. And drinking in the sight. And for once…not _ignoring_ it. The actual feelings futzing around in his heart and mind. The Others were silent, as he wasn't _thinking_ anything directly, just…swimming.

There was naught to do that day, so for the rest of the day, he would just…sit. Silently watching the girls as they did their thing. Letting everything wash over him. Thinking of exactly what these two women had come to mean to him.

The meeting of the Cult, learning what his clusterfuck of a word-dump had meant to so many people…

He'd managed to secure ten minutes alone, before the two of them left that place, where he forcibly shattered his mental walls and let the _everything_ crash into him.

The first time he'd cried in years, he mused to himself. He didn't _mean_ to. Enthrall them, that is. The two younger girls were right, it _was_ too much. But he _did_. He _meant_ something to people. Even if at the time they didn't know it was _him_ him, but his written self…which was little different than his actual.

That Alma hadn't come running was…unusual. Very unusual. She'd been trying her best to give him space but _that_ jumble of emotional turmoil should have been like the damn Bat-Signal for her. But it _wasn't_ , somehow. He knew that with how… _abused_ she'd been, growing up, the neglect and sorrow would have demanded she join him, if she'd _felt it_.

But he had a _Cult_ now. And the…the him that wrote the book. The him that _needed_ someone like himself so many years ago, that never got it…it pushed at him to take responsibility. They were doing good work, policing themselves, keeping themselves to the positive or at least neutralities of his written words, but that could change. Power…changes people.

So he took control. Thanked them, congratulated them, apologized to them, but asked them, keep an eye on themselves, on each other.

" _ **Being in the position of leader, a position of Power…it can fuck with you. It can change and warp you in ways you never thought of. You won't even see it coming. So look. Look to the person next to you. Each and every one of you. Do it for**_ _ **them.**_ _ **Even if they don't know your true pain, even if they can't hear your true voice, do it for them.**_

 _ **Change, evolution, Growth; is not the total destruction of the old at all times. It is the matching of the old and new, merging them together, minding what works and what doesn't, and proceeding from that point. Don't lose yourselves in your pursuit of growth. Don't break yourselves in the pursuit of getting someone's understanding.**_

 _ **When you go out…I expect you**_ _ **all**_ _ **to come back**_ _ **Home**_ _ **."**_

" _ **Yes Sir!"**_

And then he found out, that originally he was nobody.

In the time that Alessa remembered, either he didn't exist, or he was unimportant. Meaningless. Died just like the rest.

Admittedly, the information stuck in his head. He didn't show any hint of it but it shook him a little. He understood the idea of differing timelines perfectly fine. It was a common media trope and the various methods of telling that story were always interesting. But…

That meant that Mariko…that Medea…they didn't make it either.

He understood the pattern of his life. It was his power over Gravity that made him more than just another negro with a chip on his shoulder. It, for ignorance of pun, gave his words, his being, _weight_ , in the world. He recognized that it was a key, a…lynchpin, in making his being have meaning to someone.

Alma would, had she known his thoughts, refute the hell out of that, but he would be steadfast in his belief. Just as it was her unfathomable power that made Alma _important_ in the world, it was his Gravity Well that did the same for him. Neither of them would have had the pull they did, otherwise.

It was his power, that allowed him to make _changes_.

But it would be egotistical to say that Medea and Marie were alive because of him…or _would_ it?

If he never had his powers…he wouldn't have had the courage, let alone the _ability_ to go against that group of armed assholes. Medea would have died that day, the day she was supposed to. And then nobody would push him to write that book. And Marie…

Marie would have committed suicide long before this equivalent point in the timelines.

And then Alma would have ended the world.

And he would have died anyway.

He couldn't, and wouldn't, say that his powers were tied to Alma choosing a different path. Even that seemed farfetched to him. But everything about Medea, and Marie's current selves…they were tied to him having his powers. And while not _psychic_ in nature, its possible that had he his powers back then, he'd have been the type to try to stop her rampage. Or save as many lives as possible during the Armageddon.

So for Alessa to have died when she did, with no inkling of her daughter's power until just before the end came, meant he could do nothing. Meant that…something was different. That he'd either not had his powers and thus never truly _met_ Mariko or Medea, or he was so different from his current self that he didn't bother trying.

Of course there was always the possibility that something killed him before that point.

But regardless…it didn't paint a good picture.

And that bothered him a little as well.

That old…weak but still present, self-confidence issue. His power was what won him his freedom. Broke the shackles of his shitty family. They saved lives. Pushed him to keep bettering himself by learning new ways to use them, which came hand-in-hand with new ways to understand _people_.

Thus, the whole day, he sat in silence. Thinking quietly to himself, while watching two of the three most important people in his life now. Even though both of them were not around for the same length of time Medea was, they'd quickly attached themselves to his heart.

And they _meant_ something. Something powerful. Something he'd been trying to…well not so much ignore, but…delay.

He trusted in… _believed_ in Medea's vision. It is as he said: If his Oracle sees it, then it must be True. But he also knows that you have to _work_ with it, to make it real.

He wanted their relationship, as a collective unit, to be done _right_. No questions, no thoughts, just trust and belief. Understanding.

And maybe…he was a little scared too. Scared to lose them. Scared he wouldn't be good enough.

They were _all_ a little (a lot) broken. He was just better at acting as if his own scars didn't bother him much.

He may have wanted them to be equals…to make everything be on the same page…but even he had to admit that it was _him_ that brought all four of them together.

 _He_ was the one who stepped up and smashed Medea's vision.

 _He_ was the one who wrote the book that kept Marie afloat for years.

 _He_ was the one who became anchor point for Alma's very being.

…and it was _him_ that made them all interact. It was because of _him_ that Alma rediscovered her _passion_ at Medea's touch.

It was because of _him_ that Marie did… _whatever_ she did (they still hadn't gone into detail about exactly how Mariko managed to get Alma's force to reawaken) that pulled Alma's most important power back out.

And it was because of _him_ , that Medea practically killed herself through her own powers, to protect them all.

 **He** was the core. And while he wanted all four of them to be balanced with one another, he knew that being the one in the center meant he had the biggest responsibility to _open the positions_ for them to take. They may be the ones walking through them, but the doors had to be opened by _him_.

And so…as the day passed, as he came to that conclusion, he started _doing_.

Small things. A gentle brush of the arm here, a soft touch on the back there. A pat on the head, a touch on the shoulders. Feathered grasps of the waist for balance, repositioning.

All while drinking in the grins, the smiles…all the slight responses.

…they loved him. They really did. For whatever their reasons, that was _their_ truth.

And ultimately, he loved them too.

He knew what they wanted. He knew what _he_ wanted.

 _ **I shall have no regrets.  
For this is the path I have chosen.**_

They were beautiful. All three of them.

And it was high time he let them _feel_ that.

* * *

It started simply. Alma had just gotten done helping Marie wash off and dry the larger pans they used for breakfast that day. The dishwasher had been running for the past hour. The psychic's hair was in a loose ponytail…and then suddenly a hand reached up and pulled it free.

She'd blinked, turning around, only to be surprised as Seth's hands reached up, stroking her temples and gently entwining themselves in her hair, until they rest at the back of her head.

Her confusion was evident, but last only a few seconds before she was nudged closer to him, where he caught her in a soft kiss.

Even Mariko blinked at that. It was _Alma_ that initiated the more…obvious affection.

…it was when it didn't stop at a _peck_ that Marie began getting suspicious.

And it was when Alma's hands twitched, before they grabbed his arms and pulled herself closer to him, that made Marie understand. A gentle sigh, and a soft (if slightly sad) grin, and she turned to walk away.

And then yelped when a _powerful_ force grabbed her whole body and **yanked**.

With the seeming practiced ease of a sliding train-track shifting lines, as soon as Marie's fluffily endowed chest crashed into his and Alma's torsos, pinning Alma's arm to his chest but being caught in his free right; he swapped Alma's lips for Marie's.

While _keeping_ the intensity.

As Alma's mind rebooted from its near carnal setting (there was _something_ in that kiss that ripped through her body and started putting her dangerously close to primal levels) her eyes drunk in the sight of _happy tears_ gently leaking from Marie's closed eyes, as the half-asian gripped at his back, silently begging this moment to not be a dream.

Hell she was practically sobbing it in her mind. Which Alma could hear. And then responded to, by sandwiching the girl between herself and Seth, while gently nipping at her exposed neck.

Carnal setting. Best way to put it really.

And then her mind came back to her. And she realized _exactly_ what it meant.

Thus Alma, gently detached herself, catching both of their attention.

"I'llberightbackipromise!"

 _ ***SCRRRIIIP***_

And then she vanished…leaving Selh'teus and Mariko holding each other…blinking in unison at the spot Alma had just teleported from.

For five seconds.

Before a second tearing noise heralded her return.

…holding a damp, _naked_ , Medea.

Who upon seeing the two, promptly blurted out: "Okay. Why am I here, and why, for the past thirty seconds, has my head, been filled with the vision of that _god-forsaken_ _ **giant green penis riding a golden chariot?!**_ "

Seth's eyebrows shot up.

Medea's answer, was _Marie_ slipping out of Seth's grasp, grabbing the damp, freshly showered Oracle by the shoulders, and firmly planting their lips together.

… _ **yeah that's…that's definitely hot.**_

"Fuckin right it is." Alma retorted to his thought, slipping past the shocked Medea and focused Marie, to do the same to him.

It was when Marie pulled back, with a whispered "forgive my impudence, Mistress." That Medea started to understand.

Not the **Mara** part. Though that would later make sense.

Medea declined to let the maid go, however, grasping the girl's wrists as she looked at the liplocked Alma and Seth.

"I see." She said plainly.

… _well…I_ _ **have**_ _just had a fairly stressful day…_

Turning back to the would-be Tengu, she queried her junior. "Have you been…given _any_ experience?" It wasn't a taunt. She genuinely wanted to know not only if Marie was _truly_ ready, but also if she'd have to be eased into things.

The Maid just blinked at her. "You're not the _only_ one whose been knuckle deep in psychic, Mistress."

Medea's head jerked back, both at the implications as well as the absolutely _blunt_ statement.

That Marie kept calling her _mistress_ was being put aside, for the moment.

"Wait." Came Seth's voice, Alma clinging to him like a leech. " _That's_ how you-gaAK!"

Alma had silenced that inquiry by way of biting his neck while also grabbing his ass, quite roughly.

And growling. Can't forget the growling.

Medea just gave a soft snort of humor. "You may be in over your head here, dear. All three of us?"

He retaliated to the psychic by grabbing _her_ ass, just as hard. To which she just moaned. Figures. Attack's been negated. End your battle phase and your turn, idiot.

Trying to push aside the feelings that the psychic was doing to his neck, he responded to Medea.

"I hope my body can take it."

It was Marie, this time, that giggled. She got that reference.

Alma however just growled louder. "Bedroom! _**Now!**_ "

 _ ***SCCRRRRRP***_

And then teleported the two of them away.

"You must be chilly, Mistress. Shall we warm you up?" how she managed to mix innocence with carnal lust is something Medea doubted she'd ever figure out in her lifetime.

But of course…she wouldn't be left behind.

 _His First…and for the longest time, his Only._

"Lead the way, Raven."

* * *

It was getting late. Time to wake her up for dinner, it seemed. Eveline had come to enjoy dinners at this place now. Ever since their Angel had demanded they hire an actual cook. Frozen meals were alright but having an actually cooked dinner on occasion was something to be cherished, Eveline would admit.

It also helped bring up the mood in the place. They all knew what they were doing was skirting the line between right and wrong, and that Angel could, at any point, become another Alma. That the Director was slapping Aristide down every time the bitch would try to put pressure on them, also helped.

But that wasn't important right now. Food was calling and Angel hadn't come out for a while now. She sure did sleep a lot. But as Evie had noted, Angel was much like a cat.

Thus, Eveline had strode into the girl's bedroom (she was already in her room proper, the bedroom was an archway attached to the main area) announcing her intent.

"Angel, honey, its almost time for diiiiIOH!"

Only to find, said teenager, face down, ass in the air, and going to town on herself.

Well she _was_. Until a pair of glowing red eyes, snapped to Evie's position.

Eveline quickly whirled around, flushing heavily, heart racing in _absolute terror_.

"S-sorry! D-don't mind me! G-go ahead and f-finish up I'll be outside!"

And then promptly power-walked away. Pulling the door open to leave the teen's rooms proper, she stopped, heart skipping a beat.

Because right in front of her, was a red-faced, _red eyed,_ panting, _**naked**_ , Angel. Hair wild, eyes glowing, body tense and rigid.

… _oh god I'm going to die._

"Ang-

The teen's arms lashed up, palms slamming into Eveline's chest, throwing her _backward into the room_.

Where Angel stalked after, akin to a hunter following wounded prey.

And without touching it.

The door slammed shut.


	22. Afraid

**(BGM: NiGHTS into Dreams – Gate of your Dreams)**

A single room.

Cabinet doors lined the walls behind the room's only occupant. The sound of many voices could be heard from a short distance, low as if a conversation a few rooms away. A refrigerator, covered in magnet-held drawings and pictures, depicting things not normally found in such a calm environment.

Photographs of men with guns, childish drawings of nightmarish creatures, paintings of a blood red sky underneath a black sun…

And then on the counter next to the oven, which was placed about four person-widths from the refrigerator, was a framed photograph of a young woman with long black hair in a red dress, a glittering silver pendant of a knotted tree with an amethyst gem; smiling with her arms around a blue haired woman in a black dress, and a shorter black-haired Asian looking woman wearing a maid outfit.

The room's sole occupant sat at a small table legs kicking away underneath, as they crunched on a bowl of cereal, back turned to the photo.

It was a young girl, maybe around ten years old, staring into space, spoon moving mechanically. Her black hair held to her shoulders in two low hanging pigtails, bound by a pair of magenta ribbons.

Then suddenly, the sound of footsteps.

She barely blinked, as a figure took shape.

It was a man, who looked _terrible._ Gaunt pale cheeks, shaggy black hair peppered with grey, eyes with large bags and ringed with dark of exhaustion, clad in a damaged and bloodstained military outfit.

"You look like hell."

The girl spoke, the first noise outside of crunching she made the whole time.

The man stared at her, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Milk's in the fridge."

That statement came after a minute of him just standing in place, an archway leading into a shadowy hall behind him. He knew who she was. She knew who _he_ was. And the confusion came from her not…doing anything.

Deciding to wing it, the man slowly walked forward…and then past the child. Unseen, she gave a small smirk around her breakfast, as she heard the pressure seal of the refrigerator opening. Behind her, the man leaned in, grabbing the plastic jug of the half-gallon of milk, before closing it.

"Bowls are in the top shelf, right of the sink. Glasses on the left." She spoke again, still not turning to face him. "Spoons are on the right side drawer at the top of the bottom cabinet."

A minute or two of wood meeting wood, and clinking silverware and the man had sat down in front of the child, pouring his own bowl of cereal. This time, he saw the grin on her face. Eyes narrowing again, the girl giggled at him.

"It's almost like we're family. Or the idealistic view of one."

His expression softened slowly, before he shrugged.

The next ten minutes were filled mostly by silence, outside of the sounds of clinking spoons and crunching food. There was a surprising lack of tension in the strange kitchen-like room the two had encountered one another in. She had said nothing, merely letting him eat, and occasionally watching him.

Suddenly she twitched. The man placed his spoon in his empty bowl, looking at her with concern. Not so much concern for her, but for what might be happening.

The child shook her head. "Here she comes."

Before the man could even think to break his silence to ask, a ripple in the air formed by the archway leading to the shadowy hall. Space folded and contorted and suddenly, a woman with long black hair, wearing nothing but a sheer crimson babydoll with black lace trimming.

Facing the wrong way. Of course.

"What the tits?"

Came her voice. Neither occupant spoke, but she turned around, before gasping in shock, hands flying to her mouth.

" _Tia's Fangs!"_

The man's nose scrunched up, confused.

"Itsyouitsyouitsyou!"

She exclaimed, pointing wildly at the man, who was now considering preparing for combat. But before he could react, he was…bodily picked up and spun by the waif-like woman who was hugging him tightly as she did so.

However, the moment the two made contact, the kitchen around them shuddered violently.

She dropped him, as he looked around wildly, but the smile never left her face.

"It's alright sweetie."

Her words drew his attention to her.

"I know where you are now."

She reached down and laced her fingers with his, as the kitchen around them began to splinter apart into misty grey motes of light.

"I promise, we'll get you out of there."

A loud rushing sound, like that of a roaring waterfall, engulfed his ears as the world turned greyish white.

"You're coming home."

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 21 -** _ **Afraid**_

It had been an unexpected and mildly terrifying thing, the morning after the four of them spent the night carnally exploring one another's bodies, and unknowingly solidifying their _truest_ feelings for one another in the process. What "thing" was, had been the sight of Mariko, softly sobbing to herself, at the foot of the bed.

Worried that they, that _he_ had done something wrong, any exhaustion was banished from the other three as the question was posed.

 _Do you Regret?_

The reaction was…unexpected.

"No! Gods no! I'd do it all again a thousand times over! I _want_ to do it again! All of it!"

Her visage was horrified, shamed with the self, for leading her _precious ones_ to the conclusion that any of the night's prior events were not her desire.

"It's just…it _hit me,_ is all."

" _ **I'm**_ _ **happy**_ _ **."**_

She never expected, never believed, she would truly find happiness. She felt maybe at best she could find contentment, neutrality with her situation. Maybe a leg up on the chronic depression plaguing her since her mother, since the world, rejected her. But never _happiness_.

She never believed she had a future. Never believed she'd have a purpose. Never believed she'd be truly wanted or cared for. Those feelings had been gutted, eviscerated, torn apart by the passive rejection of her peers and the active rejection of the one who should have loved her above all else.

Selh'teus' written words gave her a path forward, gave her a spark, a fragment, a sliver of hope that _one day_ she would at _least_ be alright with herself, even if nobody else was around her. And it was enough, _just barely_ to push her forward. Because he believed in her, even if he didn't _know_ her. And that was enough to spark a self-looping obsession of _survive_.

But this morning, the morning after the wildest night she'd _never_ imagined happening to her (this would truly top her craziest memory, even dealing with the Kaijuu was _nothing_ compared to what went on in that bedroom); it slammed into her with the force of a speeding train launched by a pissed off Alma.

She was _happy_.

Not ok.

Not _satisfied_.

Not **content.**

 _ **Happy.**_

The pain the sadness the anger and hate were all still there but they were recoiling in abject _agony_ at the sheer _joy_ that filled her heart now. The brilliance, the radiance of the _hope_ that shined in her, that she had _truly_ found her place, her people…

It was overwhelming.

She was crying, because she had found what she'd long since given up on ever finding in her life. She found what she had wanted all these years.

" _I love you. All of you. I truly, truly do."_

She was content being his Servant. That was, and would never not be, where she wanted to be.

But she was given _more_.

Some would say "it was just a small orgy" and they would only be a fragment right.

But thanks to _Alma_ …

She could not project inside _his_ head…but she could, _theirs_.

And when the rampant lust began tapering away, Medea and Mariko were given _proof_ of _their_ feelings.

Not merely Seth's. Not merely Alma's.

 _All of them_.

And that…for Mariko Ann Kusumi…

Was a gift she would never release.

* * *

It was a week later, that saw them revisiting FEAR headquarters.

Because Alma had told them something important.

" _ **I found him."**_

She had found her son.

At some point after the _Linking_ as Her loved ones were calling it, she had realized she could feel him again. Almost directly. There was still something resisting her, not from his end it felt, but something else. But over the week, she had been leaving randomly, and just…wandering. Field kept tightly, focus on the sensation that was her missing son, she wandered the city and its nearby outskirts in scattered bursts of time every day.

And she had pinpointed his location, and was ready to get him _back_.

She knew she needed more training, needed more refinement – she had just gotten a handle on her _force_ after all – but she also knew that he was not being kept well. They didn't _speak_ so much as they recognized one another.

But she _also_ knew, that he had felt her. And what she _didn't_ want, was for his captors to lock onto her signature and swarm Seth's home with Replica forces.

"Or, Tia forbid, have him control them."

So, she had requested a meeting at FEAR. The relevant parties were contacted, and that Sunday, was the large meeting of the most important people involved, including Katelyn Stokes, and a surprising addition of-

"Mister Holiday!"

A tall dark skinned man with short black hair, wearing an unzipped black leather jacket over a forest green business shirt and black slacks, blinked at the energetic call. He stutter-stepped back as Alma plowed into him gleefully, hugging him tightly.

"HUGH-UUhhh…Have…have we met Ma'am?"

Alma pulled away, smiling at him, tears in her eyes, that were slightly red-hued due to her rampant emotions. "No…but you kept my son safe for a while."

Once the words had sunk in, Holiday stiffened. Alma gave a derisive snort but the smile didn't leave her face.

"Yeah I figured that'd be your reaction. He'll be happy to see you."

"Wait…you're…"

She gave him one last squeeze before pulling away. "Yeah. I am."

He just stared at her a little, mentally rebooting. "…alright then."

Another grin, before she trotted back to Seth's side.

* * *

"Hang on, you said it's _where_?"

Seth cut in, suddenly.

Alma had been explaining her activities during the week and how she found out where it seemed the entrance to the facility where her son was being held, was located.

…not three blocks from a certain _Library_.

"Hon?"

"…I need to make a call real quick."

He stepped away from the large table in the meeting room, pulling out his phone and dialing a certain number.

 ***DOOOOT…DOOOT…DOOO-** _ **CLICK**_ _*_

" _GranPulse Library, this is Lumina speaking, how may I help you?"_

"A God is Cut for all to See."

" _For there be no Blade as sharp as Mea. What can I do for you, m'Lord?"_

"Lumi, you busy much?"

" _Not really. We're not really opening today. Why?"_

"Yer aunt around?"

" _Upstairs doing some cataloguing."_

"Good. Having a bit of a meeting and something that would impact you two's come up. Think you can spring some time?"

" _Figured it'd be important since you started with the Greeting. I'll grab her. Where should we head?"_

"Don't worry about it. I'm sending an… _Acolyte_ to pick you two up. Think you can get her in five minutes?"

" _Sure thing. Just so I can light a fire under her ass, how…impactful is this?"_

"…you remember the Dreams?"

" _Of a burning city and screa-oh."_

"Yeah. That big."

" _We'll be ready in two."_

"Understand."

Hanging up, he turned. Alma was already getting out of her seat, having _felt_ the thought of speaking to her, form in his mind.

"Alma, need you to grab an image from my head and ferry a couple people from there."

"oh shit…Sir, you're sure?" came Mariko, realizing what the last few minutes was suggesting.

He nodded at her. "It's close enough that if something _wrong_ happens, they're in the blast zone."

"Should I go with her?"

He blinked. And then thought about it. "…that…hmm." Then he shook his head.

"We…haven't practiced you warping with anyone else. Can you do it?"

She looked down, frowning to herself. And then gave a sad sigh. "No…I don't know."

He nodded. "We'll see if you can, later. It's alright if you can't. Less of a transport and more of a scout from the air, y'know?"

"I know. I'm sorry, Sir."

"Bah. Know enough about teleportation shenanigans to understand some can Warp, and others can Warp II."

Marie giggled. "Did you have to say 'Warp eye-eye?'"

"Yes."

She shook her head, smiling at her Owner's attempt to keep her in good spirits.

"Right, so, Alma, got it?"

Alma nodded, seeing the mental image of not only the building, but the two people who called it their home.

"Grab-em and bring-em back. You can do two at once?"

"Should be able to. Might be noisy though."

"Godspeed."

"Aye, Cap'n." She saluted and then with a loud rip, vanished.

"What was any of that about?" Becket pushed.

"The organizer of my Cult and her Aunt happen to live a few blocks from where Alma says the place her son is stuck, is. Going by what you guys told us of what happened _last_ time one of those places was infiltrated, they need to be informed so they can make preparations to GTFOIARBH."

"Selh'teus I understood the first four letters." Jin quipped. She'd gotten used to his brand of speech and humor very quickly it seemed.

"Get The Fuck Out In A Real Big Hurry." Kate answered. "Right?"

"I can naught but shower you in praise and adoration for comprehending the absolute chunda that lies in my head."

She rolled her eyes but grinned.

And then the air _blackened._

A hissle and pop of twisted space and air erupted into place not two feet from Seth, who wisely backed up. The folding of torn reality crackled and morphed before a horrible **SHRROOOURP!** ripped through their ears.

But on the other hand, Alma and her passengers were safe.

"Going by the looks of you all, that was _really_ loud." She said.

"Sorry I think I just got the ninth guy." Seth retorted. Alma tilted her head, not understanding.

And then Medea just facepalmed. "I hate you." She sighed out.

" _ **It's Gayer than Eight Guys blowing Nine Guys! And that's with an extra dick left over to go in the ear! WHOO!"**_

* * *

The next two hours was the large group ironing out details. Having informed Lumina and Claire that their home may be in danger, together, they came up with a plan of action. A small group, accompanying Alma, would infiltrate the facility and find her son, and extract him. Any damning information they could find along the way would be welcome, but the purpose was to slip in and out as quietly and as quickly as possible.

The problem, was getting the okay to make it an official operation.

"On it, coach." Alma had said, before vanishing again.

 _Everyone_ turned to Seth.

"What? She's in _my_ head not the other way around."

Betters sighed, head in his hands. "We can't have her just…"

"I mean we _can_. We _are._ " Seth cut in. "I get it though. Organization legal bullshit, but you gotta remember, Alma's effectively the closest thing to a Goddess this world has seen. We can try to direct her and temper her actions but if she _wants_ something, it _will_ be done. Besides…she wants a _home_ after all this. So it's most likely she's…"

He trailed off, blinking.

"…huh."

"…shes…?" Claire pushed, not used to his train of thought.

" _ **You think she's twisting some people?"**_

"…moral implications aside…if it really needed to be done with minimal bloodshed…it's what I'd do…"

" _ **You disagree though."**_

He shook his head softly. "Only slightly really…people in power sometimes need to be slapped down for good reason…she'll be fine." He nodded to himself.

"Honey, fill us in?" Medea pushed.

He shook his head to clear it. "She's probably warping a few key people's minds to get this approved faster. This is her _son_ we're talking about. A good mother would eat worlds for her children."

 **SCOURRRP**

"And I want the chance to _try_ to be a good Mother."

"Did he call it correctly?" Medea asked.

"Betters, you should have a fairly easy time getting approval for this, if you make a call in the next…five minutes?"

Staring at the woman who could _literally_ dismantle the entire _United States Government_ in a matter of seconds if she truly desired to, Betters could do nothing but nod, rising to make said call.

* * *

There was a small argument.

Alma wanted Seth with them on the infiltration team. Both as an anchor of support as well as for what combat ability he had. He had more experience using his powers as an active force than she did, even if she'd learned how to do it on command. The reasoning against his inclusion, was that as a civilian he could not be involved directly, on top of having no _actual_ military or proper combat training.

The man himself, understood and agreed with both sides, unfortunately. Alma's side because he knew he was her anchor and could help her remain focused. Becket was still connected to her, but she had been intentionally allowing that link to erode, as well as acknowledging that though he had time to come to terms with everything that happened a year ago, he was still wary of her.

But he understood the military's side, because it was true, he had some skills, but he was not _trained_ for the kind of combat they would possibly see. So while the two sides debated back and forth, he came up with an idea.

"…I have a _Gross Plan._ "

"Kate, hit him."

 ***thwack***

"ow."

"OW! Dammit the hell's your shoulder made of, Dragonite Ore?"

Actually…it was something else. But that…would be learned later.

Shaking her hand, Kate pressed Medea. "Ok why did I do that?"

"Because she hates when I say those words and you were closer."

Everyone stopped at the… _blank_ way he spoke those words.

Alma stiffened.

There was a strange… _ringing_ …coming from him.

"Lumina…how solid are your illusions?"

Seeing him staring ahead, at a single spot on the far wall, not looking at anyone…hearing his emotionless tone, _feeling_ a strange tingle to the air around her…she Answered.

"I haven't tested the limits but I've had them interact with solid objects, My Lord."

"Range limit."

"The Cleric Beast chased them three blocks before fading."

" _ **Daaamn That's some serious power."**_

" _ **We've been meeting some fairly dangerous people these past few months…"**_

 _Quite._

He nodded to himself.

"Commissioner Betters, is there a place here that acts as a training room? A dojo or gym or otherwise big empty space?"

Though having only known the man officially for a couple of months at this point, Betters had been in his position long enough to know that _this was not normal_. And considering abnormal when dealing with _Alma_ meant things were going to hell…

"There's a hangar. Nothing in it right now."

Their last chopper was blown up by the Kaijuu, after all.

"Good. I agree with you. Both of you."

He _still_ wasn't looking at anyone.

…and more worryingly, the ringing was getting louder… _and was beginning to muffle his thoughts_.

"And if it weren't for the _exact_ circumstances we find ourselves in, I would be taking your side, Commissioner Betters." Which was a statement _nobody_ expected him to say.

"But Alma, though she's made _amazing_ growth in such a short time, is still unstable. And her force, even if we were to spend more time training her in it, is still too wild to trust. At least with me around, I can help direct her, keep her grounded, and if things go _really_ bad, push her to _get out_.

She needs me. And sadly, her status as Nigh-Goddess trumps any argument you may have, logical as they are."

Now, he locked eyes with Betters.

"But you have no proof, other than a brief skirmish that Sergeant Becket and Lieutenant Stokes witnessed."

He stopped leaning against the wall. "Then proof you shall have."

Now his gaze turned to Lumina.

"Lumina, if Alma were to feed you the information, do you think you could generate the most solid illusions you can, for me?"

"Ask me to block the Sun and I'll make you an Eternal Eclipse, My Lord."

She was serious.

She owed…a lot to him. To his book. She found friends, a family…peace. She'd managed to avoid the typical teenage emotional traps because of his book, because of the people his book led her to meet. She'd practiced her powers, trained herself in them, because she'd accepted herself.

She just didn't _need_ them often. But she kept her skills sharp. Sometimes she'd put on mini concerts for faceless spectators when she was alone in the house and needed to vent.

When the Cult formed, she was one of its most Vocal members. He was their Lord, their Savior, their _Brother in all but blood_. He was their rallying point, his words their guide, his meanings their limits.

They kept themselves in check, because that's what he would have wanted, and they _understood_ that.

No pressure, just presence.

So indeed, to Lumina Farron, if he'd asked her to block the Sun, she would _block the damn Sun_.

A group of cloned soldiers? Child's play.

She didn't know what was going on. Not really.

But she knew she _didn't like_ that empty feeling he was giving off.

Her Lord, her Savior, her _Brother_ , may have been in the depths of Empty but he was a bright, vibrant being of color and feeling. Funny, perverted, serious, understanding…he was as varied as there are colors in the evening sky.

She wanted that back.

* * *

The blankness continued, until they reached the Hangar. He'd requested everyone else to get somewhere safe, so he had no distractions.

Team-based training, could come later.

Medea had been, similarly silent. Something tickling at her memory about the situation but being unable to pinpoint it just yet. Marie was clutching her hand, slightly afraid. She'd _never_ seen her Owner like this, and that even Alma was following behind him, meekly yet keeping a distance, spoke _worlds_ to her.

Something was _different_ and it wasn't good.

But yet even those with training had to admit, once the illusions were summoned, Alma having placed both hands on Lumina's shoulders, as the teenager concentrated…

He had _some_ moves.

* * *

As he engaged the Illusory Replicas in mortal combat, something began to stick out to him. Not on their end, not a deficiency of their make or mannerism or tactic at all. They were, despite being third-hand copies (seeing as they were from Alma's memory, fueled into Lumina, who was 'projecting' them into reality), as far as he could tell, basically exactly as they were back at the Mall.

No, as he burst-rolled out of the way of a staccato of bullets from three sources near him; it began to dawn on him that the difference was in _himself_.

 _Something's…missing._

A directed intention and a flick of his wrist towards himself, accompanied the thought. A twirl on his left heel and a quick lash of his leg caught the flying Replica in the torso, where a pulse of force rippled out, crushing ribs and throwing the twice cloned soldier backward.

There was a growing glaring difference between the combat 'simulation' going on now, and the event that occurred the day he first met Alma. Yet as he burst-leapt over the head of two Replicas and grabbed the one on his left to act as a bullet sponge from the remaining one, he was having a difficult time figuring it out.

It wasn't…an ease of combat. It wasn't anything really to do with _them_ at all. They were trained, controlled super soldiers, but it was obvious that at no point did they fight someone who was not…well… _them_. Thus, they were…not the most _difficult_ of foes. They weren't human, but were close enough that surprise and confusion could be sewed.

And it also wasn't the lack of many objects to manipulate with his field. That was a given, and seeing as he had no idea if anywhere in the Armacham Facility they would _be_ in a location with things for him to throw around, he'd opted not to seed the area himself beforehand.

He had just launched away his fifth Replica of the twenty-five requested for this _proving of worth_ , when the answer was forcibly shown to him. As the body went rocketing away from the repulsive intent enhanced palm to its gut, his passive detection field _screamed_ at him in warning. Something about the size of a trombone's carrying case was heading towards him at a fair speed.

Reacting to the warning, he whirled around, facing the direction the object was coming only to get a glimpse of a single missile flying at him.

And then the realization came as he felt something in his head _crack._

… _oh it was_ _ **fear**_ _._

 ***KTHOOM***

* * *

She was about to cut the illusions.

They had been as real as real could be. The details flooding her mind from the woman called Alma, the weapons, the skills, all of it second-hand but the information was there and she had applied it.

And then the missile hit. The explosion rattled her bones. She could _feel_ the fear coming from the woman holding her shoulders.

She was going to do it.

When not a second after the fire and smoke erupted from the impact…

There was a loud… _ **ring.**_

And a voice in her _head_.

 _ **INFINITY**_

 _ **PLEASE**_

* * *

The tone of a single bell ringing.

And then the smoke and flames _billowed_.

To the onlookers shock, the remnants of explosion _twisted_ , bubbling and writhing like a froth-born snake bundle, before seeming to be _sucked_ to a specific point.

And be sucked it was…revealing a relatively unharmed Selh'teus…though he was on a single bent knee.

The strangest thing was…even the flames on the ground had been sucked into the now forming _orb_ of glowing burning might.

An orb that floated just behind him.

"What the hell…?"

Spoke the Replica that had fired the missile that _should_ have been his end…or at least great injury.

And yet they watched as he slowly stood.

He rolled his shoulders. Moved his neck. Flicked his fingers. Twisted his wrists.

They watched his head rise. Turn ever so slightly towards the Replica holding the launcher.

And then _vanish_.

* * *

There was no time for words as in a mere second he'd re-appeared in front of the Replica that nearly killed him, right hand snapping out with blinding speed, palm crashing into the helmeted clone's face, fingers digging into the plastic lined-metal, splintering it in a single flex of his hand, before bodily lifting the clone up and slamming it onto the ground hard enough to crack the concrete flooring.

No.

Not crack.

 _Crater._

As Selh'teus lifted the clone from its would-be stone coffin, a trail of visible blood was left lingering in the air, before he let go, spinning on the spot and lashing out with a vicious snap kick accompanied by a visible distortion. The Replica rocket through the air even _faster_ than the missile it had launched, only to be halted by _another_ snap kick by Selh'teus, who had _vanished and appeared_ in the clone's trajectory _in the blink of an eye_.

"What the FUCK!"

"OPEN FIRE!"

He vanished again, appearing with a rising knee into one Clone's face, before vanishing again and coming down with an axe kick to the skull of another. Another vanish and suddenly he was in the personal space of a third, pummeling the clone with rapid cluster punches faster than the eye could track, right leg slipping behind the clone's left to trip it up as it fell to the ground, still punching away.

The clone's body shuddered violently as if it were being perforated by a multitude of bullets from a high-powered chain gun, as it dropped to the ground only for Selh'teus to vanish away again.

"Shit! He wiped out the whole squad!"

"Move up!"

"No fucking way!"

"CONTA-

The cry was cut off by Selh'teus _punting_ the Replica into the air, where he vanished and appeared above it, putting fists together and hammering the clone back down, only to appear again and lash out with left leg and send it rocketing with a broken spine into another Replica.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

A clatter, and Selh'teus looked down.

 ***BOO-ooouuushhhp***

The grenade exploded, but its force only lasted for a split second, before it was _reversed before their very eyes_ , pooling into a very heavy visible distortion of dust, concrete and smoke in a general spheroid shape, next to him.

His head snapped to the location of where the grenade came from, and a flick of his wrist sent the dusty orb back, where it **detonated** with such force the air **cracked** like crashing thunder.

"He's surrounded! Open fire!"

It was all a distraction, as five more Replicas closed in, lifted their weapons and pulled their triggers. A literal hail of bullets raced for him, and all he did was blink.

" _ **AEGIS FORTIS: CRYSTARIUM MEMORIA!"**_

The air around his body shimmered like an incredibly dense heat haze as _everyone_ heard the woman's voice speaking, no _shouting_ the Decree.

…and the hail was _stopped_.

No.

Stopped is the wrong word.

It was _denied._

No…not even that.

 _ **Rejected.**_

The bullets didn't bounce. They didn't halt in place. They didn't ping off of any wall or seem to deflect or anything _normal_.

They _disintegrated._

The second they reached within a few inches of his body they just… _shredded apart_. The haze seemed to lash about like a writhing blade, the air rippling with the force of the _rejection_ of the space around him.

…but Alma…

 _Saw_ something.

On the ground beneath him, to her sight, was a ring of pale seafoam green light. And inside that ring, was a rotating six pointed star. And the _boundaries_ of that ring, were the definition line that the bullets _could not cross_.

And she _swore_ she saw something like that before…

But she'd have no time to figure it out as suddenly the gunfire stopped.

"No fucking way…"

He was still standing, unharmed.

And then a _second_ voice.

" _ **Heh, looks like it's my turn. DIVIEGA RETALIA: BLOOD FORT ANDROMEDA!"**_

The symbol changed to her eyes. Now taking the form of a blood red ring around a cracked black diamond with a broken sword in its core. The symbol pulsed its blooded rays once, and the ring _expanded_.

…but nothing seemed to happen.

Until _everyone_ saw one of the Replicas _crumple in on itself_.

A loud noise, like that of crunching, bending metal, echoed, and the replica _imploded_.

And the slaughter began again.

Bullets had mattered not. Either they were blocked or he just wasn't there to be shot. He'd kicked one towards a wall only to appear on said wall and smash it down to catch it with a fist to throw it into another group where another ***KAERNK*** would resound and another spray of blood and flesh would form.

He was faster than even Becket could track (except for the times he was punching or kicking. Those, Becket could see.) as he would go from ground to wall to ceiling to ground to wall to wall to wall to ground to ceiling to midair to wall to ground and so on. The bodies would just be sent flying, the bullets would do nothing, grenades would be reversed…

And that burning orb was _still_ suspended where it had all begun.

And then…

 ***KWUURR-THUNK. KWUURR-THUNK. KWUURR-THUNK. KWUURR-THUNK.***

A single Powered Armor strode into view from one of the dust clouds brought by small explosion.

It rose its gun arms, the barrels beginning to spin.

And _then_ the Orb moved.

It rumbled and shook, splitting into two, before the two smaller orbs spiraled around him. A fling of his arm, and **seven voices shouted at once.**

" _ **DUAL THE SUN!"**_

The two spheres collided with either side of the Powered Armor.

And the voices were apt. For **two small suns were born.**

* * *

It was Medea that was the first amongst them to leave the safe-room. She did not run. But she did, power-walk, with a steady, focused gait, to his side.

Not for comfort. But to _confront_.

"Since when can you do all of that?"

The question was not shouted. It was not screamed. But it was delivered with a hard, _damning_ tone.

Selh'teus looked her in the eyes, seeing the glimmering jewels hard and angry and concerned.

But no fear.

Never again.

He gave a humorless chuckle with his answer. "Since always, Maddy."

Her eyes narrowed. "…then why…why the training? Why all of that time we _wasted_ -

"What did you tell me, that day you asked me to help you stop being afraid? What was it like being around me, when I saved your life?"

She stopped, staring. And then replied evenly. "Like I was an instant away from being crushed like an ant on pavement underneath the boot of a giant."

He nodded, but remained silent.

Her head jerked back as she came to the realization of what he was attempting to infer. "You…you've been _holding back_ this whole time?"

He nodded. "It wasn't wasted time, Maddy."

She was gobsmacked. But still, she listened. They all did.

"That day, when you told me that…you were afraid. Your hands were shaking as you spoke. And I realized you weren't just afraid that you were about to die. No, you'd seen that coming. You were afraid of _me_. And not just because you couldn't see my future. But because you _felt_ what I could do. And knowing you were afraid of me…well it put a metaphorical foot up my ass."

He shrugged even as Alma gave a soft snort.

"Before, I didn't care. All that power was just _there_. Some skill using it, but it just _was_. The cats didn't seem bothered by it, nothing of mine broke being around me, so I didn't care. But falling into that haze of panic and fury…having you show that you were terrified, learning that at any point my own power could have _crushed you_ without me intending it…"

He shrugged again.

"So I started reigning it in. Trying to hold it all back. Let out only what I needed, when I needed. It…wasn't easy."

Suddenly she gasped and stepped back. Again, not out of fear, but understanding. " _That's_ why you were so exhausted back then! You usually just looked _bored_ in class, not like you were going to fall asleep standing up!"

He nodded. "Imagine…you're the only thing holding back an ocean. One you ended up making because you were carving paths for a bunch of rivers to flow through. Only the crushing power of the ocean is actually hidden in your mind and nothing you physically do helps."

"You did…you _twisted yourself_ …for me…?"

A soft smirk. "Well…not _just_ you. Told you about how my powers would just…react, back then. But you were the catalyst I guess. The last thing that said 'hey, you really need to get control of this shit', y'know?"

"…so that's how you knew so well…" Lumina said aloud. Low, but aloud.

He nodded to her. "Everything I wrote was tainted with the perspective of trying to hold back _power_. But what are emotions but another kind of power?"

Lumina stared right at him, then grinned. "There is no spoon."

He smiled back. "Not even a shitty plastic spork."

"You…were just like me…?"

Alma half-whispered.

"I mean…I didn't get to the point you did but…"

A double rip and suddenly the psychic was burying her head in his neck. She knew he understood, in his own way. She cherished that welcoming understanding and faith he had in her, even from the first day they met. But some small part of her had always wondered, why he _believed_ in her the way he did.

She welcomed it. Welcomed it almost rabidly. But she wondered.

And now she knew. He was _just like her_. Maybe not in having people's thoughts in his head. But that lack of control. The need to try to _be better_.

Everything he'd taught her…weren't just ideas spouted from possibility. They were techniques he learned, for himself, because _he needed them too_.

"Wait." Suddenly Kate barked. "Were you holding back with the _Replicas_ at the Mall too?!"

"Be glad I was." He said around clingy psychic. "Or I'd have ended up probably crushing your ribcage or something accidentally when I blew that first one away."

Kate's head jerked back. "The fuck…"

Medea nodded. "It's true. When he was saving my own life, a lot of the gunners were crushed with a lot of collateral damage. Many of the walls were cratered around them, and not just on their impact. The floor looked like an unkempt roadway wherever he stepped. Everyone he hit, the ground or ceiling or floor would look like the hand of God had struck upon them."

She turned back to him, as Alma was pulling away. "How close were you to what it was like with me?"

"If I hadn't…stepped away from Alma and Kate when I did…probably a few minutes more before I just said 'fuck it'."

Medea grimaced. "Two words I hate hearing come out of your mouth."

"That and 'gross plan'." The moment he said that, her left arm lashed out and punched him in the free shoulder. Full force.

"Ow."

"…sorry. Reflex."

He gave a wounded chuckle. "I mean, honestly…I think it happened anyway. That same blurry feeling covers our escape."

Here, Alma had clutched him tighter.

She still couldn't tell him _exactly_ what had happened.

"You mean when you went apeshit and slaughtered that whole platoon. And the powered armor."

He shrugged in response to Stokes' statement, causing Alma's hair to sway.

"When Medea told me about how I saved her life, she described a…distortion of bent light. Like a heat haze on a summer day; that was around me."

"That was there this time as well. Only…wilder. Wider. When you saved me it was tight. Controlled. Maybe at most half a foot around your skin. This time was at least a foot, maybe two."

He shook his head confused. Alma pulled back but refused to let go of his arm. "Dunno the difference other than I'm fully aware of what I just did."

"Yeah and it wasn't a haze." Suddenly Becket spoke up.

"Eh?"

"When you…wiped out that squad. It wasn't a _haze_."

"Becket what are you talking about. It _was_. I saw-

"That's not what _I_ saw." He insisted.

"Michael…what did you see?"

Did he see the girl too? Did he see how she kept taking Seth's place, as if she was actually him instead?

"…isawadragon." He mumbled out.

"Nandato."

Becket seemed to deflate. "I said I saw a _dragon_."

"…are you fuckin shitting me? Are you sure-

"Wait." Alma spoke. She was standing tall. Back straight. Eyes locked onto Becket. Face…shockingly _hard_.

"A dragon?" She questioned.

"Yeah."

"Describe it."

"…shockingly humanoid. It…would appear and disappear randomly but the vague shape of it surrounded him at all times. Black…black as night. But also kind of shiny. Reflective almost. Like its scales were made of some kind of black crystal. Onyx. Or Obsidian maybe, I don't know. Its wings were tipped with grey, bone-looking claws, and they were…tattered. Holes in them, like a moth-eaten sheet or something."

The shocker wasn't that Becket was describing a fairly awesome looking phantasmal beast, but that _Alma seemed to recognize it_.

"Tail?" She queried.

A nod. "Long, covered in jagged spikes along the spinal edge, tipped with four arced bones. It made me think of a really crude drill."

"Claws?"

"Sharp looking as hell. Like small knives on five fingers. The legs were surprisingly thin, not much bigger than a human of comparable size, but they looked like every day was leg day for that thing."

She dismissed the fairly humorous comparison and nodded seriously.

"I only got sight of the head once but…it seemed to have a single eye, right at the center. And its horns looked curved backwards."

"…I saw it too." Alma admit. "Only twice though."

Seth was just…blinking.

"…huh."

"Well it fits." Marie said.

And everyone looked at her.

She slightly caved inward, but a glance at Selh'teus who was also looking, and looking _confused_ no less, pushed her to stand taller.

"Well it _does_."

"How do you figure that?" asked Holiday.

She shrugged, trying to hold off the nervousness. "He _is_ a dragon, if you think about it. Gathers people like treasures. Defends them with his life. Capable of mass destruction when provoked. Generally anti-social except under specific circumstances. Wise beyond his years with a general intelligence to match. Strong, brave, a little bit selfish, controlled greed…and when he Speaks, he Roars, and when he Roars, people Listen. Or they die."

"Selfish?" Lumina asked, surprised that their Priestess would say such a thing.

"He wrote his book not to help others so much as get them to help themselves. And ultimately, he doesn't really care about _the world_. Just certain people in it. He'll help someone in front of him if nobody else is moving to do so, but he won't go out of his way unless you mean something to him. Selfish. Caring, loving, sweet and gentle but ultimately Selfish. If you mean something to him, he will break the World in two, for you. And if you mean something to someone that is His, he'll keep an eye out for you. But otherwise, until you prove yourself to be something More, he just doesn't care really."

Lumina nodded, thoughtfully. "That's why you said only a little bit. It's not about him and him alone, but about what he sees as His…huh." Her head tilted. "Wow you're right. He _is_ like a Dragon."

"Right?!" Marie exclaimed. "If you're His then you're a Treasure and thus part of his Hoard. And if you're part of his Hoard…"

"He'll wipe out anything that threatens you because you're _his_ , even if you're your own person."

"Dragons…are territorial creatures. They take what interests them. You leave them alone, they leave you alone. And if you have a request, you can sometimes bargain with them, but you have to either interest them or have something they want. And if you irritate them, or threaten what they see as theirs, they won't hesitate to burn you to ashes. Assuming their Tongue is flame." Kate suddenly spouted.

Seth snorted. "eat shit Alfredo, I'm a Dragon."

Kate rolled her eyes and followed up. "Yeah well we _all_ know you're finna ta fly."

And to that, Selh'teus just howled with laughter.

* * *

He couldn't teleport. That's not what was happening.

It _looked_ like teleportation, but it wasn't. He wasn't _rending_ or _folding_ space between two points to relocate himself from one place to the next. It wasn't _jumping_ either, which was similar…but jumping was the closest thing he could do.

He called it 'Zero Shift'.

The idea coming from a video game. What happens, is he _compresses_ space around him. The theory was, that when compressed space returns to normal, it generates a reactive force exceeding the level of compression by a few grades. By using that, he propels himself in his chosen direction at nigh untraceable speeds.

The problem is…it's hyper-dangerous and is, what he called, part of his "Last Word."

The issue he'd been facing during the early stages of his demonstration of combat ability, was that he was not _afraid_. It was fake, it was a simulation. There was no need of fear or worry for his or anyone else's life.

And that was what _weakened_ him.

Because of how he trained his mind, he is at his _strongest_ when he is _afraid for his life_. Because then the goal changes to "survive". And he _will_ survive, at any cost. It wasn't until the rocket was about to detonate that the _fear_ appeared. He was fast enough to not be where bullets were aimed. He was capable of repulsive force strong enough to break bone.

But he couldn't do much about an explosion…without being in that _emergency_ state.

His 'Event Horizon' the technique he uses to determine what's around him when he's focused on combat, is heavily flawed and he admits it. It only tells that 'thing' exists. And generally what speed its moving at. Fast enough things won't get detected, small enough things might not get detected.

It works by flooding the space around him with his gravitational field, attuned to his subconscious. The longer he's in combat in a given space, or the more familiar with the space he is, the more accurate the reading and the better and more efficiently he can react.

But when he's _afraid_ …legitimately afraid…

 _All_ space, becomes his.

The field gets pushed outward to maximum range, uncaring of friend or foe.

That's what made him weaker; he tries not to crush any innocents or allies in his field.

Because once he takes control of a space, it immediately becomes _rejecting_.

Rejecting all that is _fear_.

And as Medea had experienced, even the people he's trying to help, would be affected by it negatively. She was lucky she only _felt_ like she was going to be crushed.

But once a space was his, he could then, wield the Zero Shift. Medea had only ever seen him use it the once, and she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. It was a tense situation and she was scared shitless. Otherwise, he'd only been burst-moving and shifting gravitational anchor points on a moment's notice.

And as he said, after that point, he'd been focused on keeping restraint.

But ultimately, he had proven himself. Taking Lumina out for pizza and ice cream as both payment for her assistance and an apology for scaring her with the near-death from the rocket, the group split apart.

The plan was set.

In two weeks, they would infiltrate Armacham's hidden facility.

In two weeks…Alma would find her son.

In two weeks…

 _ **It will be time to say hello.**_


	23. Angel

**(BGM: Kingdom Hearts 358Days/2 - Musique pour la tristesse de Xion)**

 ***FSHHHHHH***

The sound of rushing water.

A steam filled bathroom.

The room's occupant deftly stepped out of the tub. Body dripping fluid, the sole life in the bathroom flicked a narrow wrist absently. From one of the far walls, off of a hook, came coasting a fluffy red towel. Wielding it, the occupant began drying themselves from the top.

First, a long session of ruffling their hair. As per the standard ritual, thoughts of cutting it shorter, filled their mind for a time, before the thought would pass as they realized that when the time came, their hair would be shortened for them.

Then came the torso. Taking far less time than the hair, the towel was flipped over – a reactionary holdover from another time – and run along the chest and stomach. Taking care to avoid being too rough with the stiffened flesh protrusions, as this week they were hyper-sensitive, the occupant rushed the wet-absorber cloth along their arms, down past the stomach, and along the legs.

Another wrist flick and a separate bundle of cloth came flying from next to the toilet. After stepping through the produced holes, the occupant gripped the drying cloth and swiped it along a fogged over reflective surface.

To reveal a fair skinned, freckled, feminine figure peering back.

She'd left the shower running. Preference, as the bathroom had been cold. That, and the sound of the water calmed her. She wasn't naked, having dressed in dark red undergarments prior. Her hair, black, streaked with caramel brown, was beginning to dry. She'd take a comb through it later, but for now…

A small carrying case, hand-sized, rest on the edge of the sink, open. Within, rest a series of colored tubes, a soft small brush as if for painting, and a few colored pencil resembling objects.

A knock on the door.

"I'm decent." She called out.

The door creaked open. A single man in a business suit hovered in the doorway.

"Wearing a bra and panties doesn't exactly count as decent."

She rolled her eyes, the irises flickering red with irritation as she glanced through the mirror at the man behind her.

"Good enough for me." She replied, before picking one of the pencils up and bringing it to her eyelid.

"You look like you're getting ready for a date."

She snorted. "Something like that."

"…Angel. What's going on? Evie's been-

"Avoiding me." The girl said, tracing the black under her left eye.

"Yes. Why?"

"Something happened. Unexpected really. Not entirely intentional. Can't say it was my fault but I can't say it wasn't either." Was the deceptively casual response.

"Angel wha-

"Director. It's personal. And it will work itself out." She said pointedly, looking directly at him through the mirror.

And then she shrugged before moving to work on her right eye.

"That or she'll be dead before tomorrow and it won't matter."

The man's brown eyes narrowed. "What do you-

"She's coming, Director." The girl said, almost absently, now dragging a slightly thicker pencil over her upper eyelid.

The man paled, understanding.

"Shit."

The girl snorted before nodding in his direction, acknowledging the validity of his reaction. "Something happened and I wasn't able to block her anymore. She knows where _he_ is, and today is the day she comes to get him."

"That explains why you look like you're prepping for a date."

"Hn." Was all the girl responded with, as she'd picked up the brush and began gently dusting her cheeks.

"I'll leave you to it then."

With that last statement, the door closed as the man left the teenage girl to her preparations.

"A date huh…?"

She muttered to herself, before sighing, hands bracing the sides of the sink.

"…I should have let him walk me to the damn party…"

That was her one regret. That when she met _him_ she didn't…take him up on his offer. It was her dream come true, her wish, to see the man who-

She shook her head.

 _No time to think about that…_

It was true. She had…maybe an hour at best, before the Guest of Honor arrived.

"…am I really going to do this…?"

She had her reasons for going along with things. For allowing everything to unfold as it had. For not…

She shook her head again. She'd accepted the choice made for her. Even if she didn't fully agree with it, she…got what she needed. A stable home, if annoying. Practice with her powers.

And a goal.

She sighed.

Despite it all, she was still very much a typical teenage girl, with all the emotions and thoughts that came with it. Even if she _was_ tied to-

 _Stop it._

She glared at her reflection, eyes tinting red.

The incident with Eveline wasn't her fault but-

 _Bullshit._ The glare focused. _I know better than that._ _ **He**_ _raised me better than that._

It was…but it wasn't. She understood _why_ it happened. And how. But it didn't change that things had become awkward between herself and her most cherished caretaker.

…well on _Eveline's_ end at least. _'Angel'_ was just embarrassed at the loss of cognitive function and control.

… _but if I had to pick anyone for it to happen with, I'm glad it was my older-sister figure and not one of these…dickheads._

She snorted to herself. Wasn't _that_ the truth.

… _tch…I guess it runs in the family…_

Still…she wished she could have had a little more time. Maybe one more meeting with _him_ …before it all went down.

 _Maybe then I'd have had more time to enjoy him…liking me._

She turned away from the mirror with a heavy sigh.

 _ **Before I made him want me dead.**_

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 22 -** _ **Angel**_

 **(BGM: NieR Automata – Alien Invasion)**

" _We'll need two cars for this. Normal ones."_

The two weeks had passed. Two weeks of planning, training, stressing. Silent teleport practice on Alma's end, _voice_ practice on Kate's, illusion holding and manifesting for Lumina.

" _We'll split into two teams at first. Holiday, Alma, and Stokes will take the west entrance. Seth and myself will take the east."_

Two weeks. And it all came to this.

" _Why that grouping?"_

It was time.

" _I get it. Alma's a psychic hub on her own. With me and Becket on one team, she can keep you two updated, and relay anything important back to Becket considering our link is one way."_

Time to get _her son_ back.

" _Plus this way both teams have one supernatural attacker on their side, just in case. We aren't planning for any fights until once we're deeper in the facility, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared."_

* * *

They had slipped in.

" _On the East side, Kate, we need you to short out this particular electrical panel."_

The ginger haired woman, wearing a simple outfit of a shirt, a leather jacket her girlfriend gave her, a green beanie with a gold triangle made of four smaller ones, a pair of jeans and some dark sneakers; slipped through the alleyways.

" _Honestly if this wasn't anything more than a quick snatch and dash we'd want you with us to completely fuck their systems but…"_

" _There could be a self-destruct failsafe."_

A soft, focused mutter that to anyone not in the know, would be nothing more than insane gibberish, and a spark of pale blue-white leapt from her fingertips to the hidden panel behind a false wall. Walking away just as casually as she had approached, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text.

 _ **Chrg=fkt. Sparks flying.**_

" _On the West side, Lumina, we need you to pop one of your illusions."_

The rosette sat in her aunt's van. Eyes closed, she focused her will on the world around her.

" _What for?"_

" _There's a hidden camera nearby. And sometimes just inside the entrance there's a guard."_

Nothing was out of place. Everything was as it should be. The illusion wasn't supposed to be elaborate or anything, just an overriding of consciousness to believe that things were routine and absolutely normal. She was well inside her influence range of a few blocks, but even so, this was important.

She would not fail her Lord.

" _And you want me to…?"_

" _Just make it seem like nothing is out of place. We'll slip in during that time."_

And slip in they did. And there was indeed, a guard there.

" _Hold it for ten minutes, then get out of there. Keep it up for another five while you get away."_

Holiday lashed out a hand, catching the guard from behind. Covering his mouth and pointing his sidearm at the guard's back, the guard quickly silenced himself. Alma had slipped up next to them, and placed a hand on the guard's head. In seconds, the guard twitched violently, before sinking, limply, in Holiday's arms.

A quick check and-

"He's dead."

Alma gave a sharp nod. She wasn't playing around. Anyone with Armacham was fair game, and in a hidden, almost bunker-like facility such as this one, to her, everyone was culpable.

She wouldn't go on a bloody rampage, but she wouldn't hold back either. But her killing of the guard wasn't merely to satisfy her need for revenge, she'd plundered his mind as well. In fact, to her, the guard dying was merely a side-bonus of ripping through his memories.

She'd gotten an updated mental map of the facility, including a mid-point where both teams could meet. She quickly sent that information to Becket, before moving on.

* * *

"…something feels off about this…" Seth muttered.

He and Alma had been both outfitted with combat gear similar to what the other FEAR operatives wore on their missions. His own power had made everyone's burden a little lighter, considering the expectation of having to "GTFOIARBH" (pronounced git-fo, ee-are-bih, according to Alma) at any point.

Becket shifted his stance to better profile his teammate. "What do you mean?" he queried in a low whisper.

And then suddenly the door in front of them slid open. With the lights leading down the hallway, flickering on, one by one.

"It's shit like that." Seth deadpanned.

They'd only been in the building for five minutes, but their journey had been deceptively easy, and without confrontation. What Seth had pointed out, was that it was _too_ easy. Not to mention events like the above: doors closed and locked electronically, only for another door to open, lights activating as if to guide the way. None of the doors had motion sensors, and quick glances didn't reveal any strange hollows in walls or ceilings for cameras.

And any active security cameras they came across, had seemed to be unplugged, wires dangling freely next to them.

"No guards, no cameras, but doors are opening? It's like we're being herded."

Becket just tensed his grip on his rifle, nodding.

* * *

"Becket. Good to see you made it."

The two groups had converged. Five floors down from their respective entrances, in a wide hallway with multiple doorways that seemed to lead into individual small corridors.

"Any trouble for you three?"

"Some guards but Alma…well."

Becket sighed. Alma shrugged absently, looking around.

"…odd." Seth mumbled.

"What is?" Alma turned to him, distracted.

"We didn't run into _any_."

Some blinks and a few shrugs. "Luck maybe?" Holiday offered.

 _Tch…some luck._ Seth thought to himself, but nodded anyway.

"Someone's behind that door."

Everyone turned to Alma at that. She was pointing towards a set of double-doors to their collective left.

"Fifty…no, maybe a hundred feet that way."

"Do you recognize the mind?"

"No but…" she frowned. "They're thinking only thoughts of 'please come in.' Like, on a loop."

Becket mirrored her frown.

Also…was it just him or was her presence getting…muffled? He shook the thought and spoke up. "Check weapons and I guess lets go investigate. Alma…try not to splatter whoever it is immediately."

The psychic turned a blank gaze to him. "No promises."

* * *

"Welcome, FEAR operatives, Miss Wade. May I offer you a drink?"

They'd traversed the hall at a ready gait. Flanking either side of the double doors, Holiday and Becket taking point on both sides, they opened the portal at once, guns up and fingers ready.

Only to find two people in a simple office room, standing behind a large desk. A man, and a woman, neither of them immediately recognizable.

"Who are you?" Came Alma's immediate, sharp retort.

"Ahh, forgive my manners, Miss Wade." The man replied. "I am Kenneth Manders, Director of Armacham's 'Project Angel'. The lovely lady next to me is Melinda Waters, my secretary, accountant, and all around best friend."

"I'd say it's a pleasure for us to meet you but honestly, if I may be frank, I'm trying not to crap myself." Melinda admit.

"Yeah that's…kinda the reaction you should be having right now." Seth quipped from the side.

"You're oddly forthcoming." Becket spoke sharply.

Kenneth shrugged. "I know why I'm here. I'm a fall-guy for when this inevitably goes tits-up. We've had Miss Wade's son for over a year, and I knew she would come for him one way or another, sooner or later. It's Aristide that came up with the idea and the higher-ups let her fuck about down here so she'd be out of their way of trying to cover their asses. Honestly? They can go lick a live grenade."

"You're not stalling." Alma said, pointedly.

"Nope. In fact, I'm going to help you on your way." He slid over, across his desk, a small object.

"That's my master key to this place. Your son is being kept in the Depths. He's not in the best of shape but we've kept him alive and as healthy as possible for someone held in an induced Coma. The last few hours have been hectic and I may have conveniently forgotten to re-apply the sedatives earlier today. You should have little problem waking him up. Getting him out of here might be a little tricky, if only due to muscle atrophy."

He gave a repentant shrug. "There's only so much we could do, about that."

Alma's eyes narrowed, but the plastic card lifted off the desk, landing in the palm of her hand. She gave it a visual brief once-over before turning her gaze back to the two.

"Oh, by the way." Melinda spoke up, voice not betraying her spoken nervousness. "There's a quarter-battalion of deactivated Replicas scattered along some of the floors between here and where your son is being held. They _shouldn't_ , in theory, activate against you, as we have no active Commander-type around, but I thought it prudent to warn you all the same."

"Well thanks, I guess." Stokes replied, a little awkwardly.

"…Seth." Spoke Alma.

"Hmm?"

"…what do I do?"

He blinked a few times, before his head tilted.

"About them, you mean?"

"Yes."

He looked at the two, who were now looking at him. Their calm belying their true feeling of mild terror.

"Let's assume you leave here alive. What do you plan to do?"

"Ditch my wedding ring and elope somewhere in Europe." Melinda spat rapidly.

A single quirked eyebrow was the response.

"Mel married one of the higher ups, ten years ago. He convinced her to come work at Armacham with him, you know the deal. High pay, high praise, all that junk. He…used to be a good friend of mine. But then he started focusing too much on his career and well…"

"I never wanted to work here really. The money was good but after two years ago, with Origin, I've honestly been wanting out for a while."

"So when Miss Wade went effectively batshit a couple months ago, we decided, if we make it out of encountering you alive, we ditch Armacham and get married like we should have before."

"Ken's always been good to me and honestly I made a bad call marrying Aaron instead. But…feelings, right?"

Seth nodded. "Four way relationship myself." He admit, making both Kenneth and Melinda stare at him in shock. "Alma's one of them, really. It's tough. Hell it was tough back when I was in a one-on-one. So yeah. Matters of the heart. Fuckin batshit. So!" he clapped, making the two jump.

"Let's say you get out of here and do all that. What's next?"

"Honestly? No idea. I wanted to be a damn librarian not a…secret keeper for some bullshit Umbrella knock-off." Melinda grumbled.

"…how about this."

Now everyone was looking at him.

"We leave, we let you go. You go…have fun eloping. And when you're done with that, you come back to this city. Ten blocks from here, there's a place called 'GranPulse Library'. Should be a pink haired teenager there. You see if they're hiring, and if she waffles or stonewalls, tell her you came from the Empty Sky. She'll understand. Get you at least a trial run."

"…seriously?"

He shrugged. "The fact that Alma didn't splatter you immediately means you're not hiding anything from her, at least, nothing you know. And it means she doesn't sense the same perverted negativity that everyone else in this cesspool of a company holds. The fact that she asked me what to do, rather than just nuking you into a fine red goop, means she's not just _reacting_ to your existence. It tells me, that you're quite possibly, actually decent people, caught in a shitstorm you had nothing to do with. Plus, if push comes to shove, we can hit you up for whatever you can tell us when Armacham inevitably gets slammed with a bajillion lawsuits."

Alma looked at him hard, then looked to the Director and his secretary…then nodded once, sharply.

"Is that an _Order_?" She spoke, staring at them.

He closed his eyes, thinking it over. A gentle sigh from him.

"… _yes._ That's an _Order_."

Alma nodded again. "As my **Lord** commands, I shall _Obey_."

And promptly, she turned around, and left the room.

He sighed again, before looking at the two. "Get moving as soon as we're out you two. Replicas or not, things might get messy before we're gone."

* * *

The rest of their journey was traversed with no resistance at all. They passed by multiple offices, rooms filled with files, rooms of medical equipment, and what looked like a single room belonging to a parent and child. They walked through small corridors and a giant atrium-like area about half-way through their trek; bodies tense and guns ready.

But nothing. No sign of people, no guards or scientists along the way. The rooms and offices _looked_ recently used. The place wasn't abandoned and desolate. There were signs of recent life and being, but nobody was around at this point.

But Alma didn't care about any of that. She barely noticed it. So focused, was she, on reaching her son. On correcting her _failure_. On trying to save the last piece of blood that _didn't hate her_.

And finally…they reached it.

A single chamber beyond a series of sliding doors. An open expanse of multiple blinking lights surrounding a single, orblike container.

"…Just like the Still Island facility…" Stokes muttered. Becket nodded quietly, as Alma threw the three switches to extend the walkway to the suspended orb.

* * *

 **(BGM: Wild Arms Alter Code: F – Princess Sorceress)**

A hiss of compressed air.

The sound was muddled, feelings and thoughts murky.

Stiffness…lethargy…

A low humming rumble. Something rustling in the ears.

And then a soft lurch. A pull. Not harsh and jolting but definitely unexpected.

Another. Upwards feeling. Everything was too muddled…but slowly coherence was returning.

A third, and like the sound of emerging from beneath the waves, air rushed in. Hearing returned.

And slowly, the darkness receded. BRIGHT!

So bright! Even with the eyelids shut it was bright. And then suddenly, it was darker. Still bright along the edges but the immediate front was shaded.

Eyes opened. Color and shape slowly morphed, shuddering and twisting.

Black. Stringy black. Like a curtain of shadow.

Some red. Shaped like a mouth. Lips?

Blue rings. Glowing almost. Eyes then.

It was a face.

It was a face that was vaguely familiar.

Liquid. The face was tearing. Tearing. Crying? Why was this woman – because it was being quite clear it was a woman – crying?

And then two words.

Two words that pushed the mind into overdrive.

Two words that jumpstarted everything.

A voice. Soft and shimmering. Holding every conceivable emotion known to mankind. With the weight of _worlds_.

Two words.

" _My baby…"_

* * *

It was true. He was fairly malnourished. He'd been strapped to the chair, the Telesthetic amplifier of a make similar to the one on Still Island. He had no real recollection of time, just an occasional flickering image of a young woman.

" _We're going to get you nice and fattened up when we get home. I know an amazing cook and I've got wonderful friends and everyone's waiting for you."_

And now he was set free. Released from the "bubble" that had held him for over a year. His legs barely worked, his eyes itched and burned, his head was throbbing…but he was _free_.

" _We've got so much to talk about. Like, like, your favorite color and food and have you seen much TV? Books? I haven't really read many myself but there's one I particular that changed my life."_

And… _her_. She wasn't…at all what he was expecting. For one, she was younger. For another, she was just…babbling at him, supporting his listed weight without complaint and with a strength beyond her slender size. The woman named Alma Wade. The woman that was his mother.

The woman, that had set him free.

* * *

He'd been trying to get her attention for the last five minutes. To his surprise, she didn't answer. Not even stopping for a second since pulling that man out of the amplifier. A sling of his right arm over her shoulder, and she started frog-marching him back the way they'd came.

He and the others had shared confused looks, though his was more tinged with amusement, before following. And yet…he'd been growing concerned.

Getting here was too easy. And if its easy to get in to where a target of rescue is being held…

"Alma!"

"And we're going to have a pool soon an-oh. Yeah?" She stopped suddenly, turning her head to her…whatever he was to her.

"…have you just not been hearing me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've been trying to _call_ you the past five minutes…?"

She blinked at him.

"Oh…I guess…maybe I was a little distracted."

 _You think?_

 _ **Jealous much?**_

 _No. Concerned._

"What's up? We should really keep going."

"Why haven't you teleported him out yet?" was the response.

"Oh." She blinked. "uhh…"

Hand, meet face. Heavy sigh.

"Ok…" she blushed a little. "Maybe _really_ distracted."

"Well go on then."

"Uhh…I'd rather not…?"

That surprised all of them. And then Seth blinked. And then thought about it.

"…because now that you think about it you're worried about aggravating something about him in the process."

"Yeah, actually."

"Fine fine. Carry on the-

* **KEEEWWWWwwwwww***

He was cut off, by the sound of the lights turning off, and energy suddenly slowing to a stop.

"…Alma fuck the caution. Warp. _Now._ "

"…I can't."

"What."

"I _can't_. I've been trying since the lights turned off and it's like something's blocking me!"

"Yeah. That would be me."

Came a sudden voice.

With a loud echoing clunk of a click, the lights turned back on.

And before them, stood a group of people. It was at this moment, that Seth realized that they had made it back to the large, atrium-like area. And as he took stock of his surroundings, he came to a realization.

It wasn't an atrium.

 _It's an_ _ **arena**_ _._

* * *

"Well. Alma and her son. Together again. What a touching reunion. Truly, it is. However, luckily for me, I have both of you in one place to-

"Aristide. Shut the _fuck up_."

The group, was many ATC security guards, each armed with automatic weaponry, and stone-faced. Led by Genevieve Aristide, who had, originally a small, nearly imperceptibly smug smile on her face, as she addressed Alma and the others. To her left, a young, brunette woman just taller than Aristide herself. She looked nervous, but tried to hide it, almost succeeding.

And to her right…the voice that cut her off. A smaller person, in a grey hoodie, lined with pink, bearing...

"Is that the crests of Hope and Light?" Seth muttered to himself.

The figure nodded, before lowering its hood.

Seth's eyes widened.

"Wait…you're."

As a familiar girl, with shimmering amethyst eyes, and caramel streaked black hair, stared back at him.

"H'lo, Sir."

" _ **Angelica?"**_

* * *

It was time.

Everything had come to this, revolved around this moment. She saw the look of confusion in his eyes. Drank in his uncertainty, slowly being tainted with growing rage. It…tickled her. Not joyfully, but like the itch in the back of your nose before you sneeze.

…it wasn't what she _wanted_ , but it was what she was given.

And…

"…you're with Armacham."

 _He_ 'd raised her, to take what the world gave you. And if it was _shit_ , to throw on some gloves, ball it up, and _chuck it right back in the world's stupid prick face._

"Yes Sir."

"…and…you're stopping Alma from teleporting."

"Correct again, Sir."

"Subject Angel whaCCHHH-HCCH _AAA_ CHK."

"Aristide." The teenager said, blandly, an annoyed snarl on her face. Her hand had lifted slightly, fingers clenched as if squeezing something.

At the exact moment, Genevieve Aristide began scrabbling at her throat, choking in an invisible grip.

"I believe I told you, to _shut. The fuck._ _ **Up.**_ "

Suddenly, the older woman began nodding fearfully, still gasping and flailing.

"Good." The hand flicked out, and the woman dropped to her knees, breathing in deep, heaving gulps of precious air.

"Angelica." The girl visibly jumped. She didn't like that tone. It…made her feel…

 **Unworthy.**

"My apologies, Sir. I had to remind the _cattle_ of its place."

She had noticed, Alma had taken a step forward, hefting her son off to Becket. A man who met her eyes, and was faced with a brief snarl of hatred, to his surprise.

"You're stopping her from teleporting, why?"

"I'm also isolating her psychic presence from outside forces."

Alma's eyes widened, turning to Seth. "I can't hear you. Oh fuck. I can't _hear you_."

Seth's stoic glance belied his _internal panic_.

"Again. _Why_?"

"What I was meant to do, Sir."

"Which is?"

"Defeat Alma." Spoke the brunette.

"And you are?" Countered Becket.

"Eveline Winters. Angela's caretaker."

"Lica." The teen said, annoyed.

The woman blinked rapidly, attempt at appearing stern and stoic, horribly broken.

"E-excuse me?"

"it's Angel _ica_. He got it right. Why can't any of you, Evie?"

"I-you…what?"

"And no, Sir. She's not _that_ Eveline Winters. She's got minor power over making plants grow a little better and under abnormal conditions and that's about it." Angelica continued.

Seth blinked. Then understood.

"So we don't have to worry about the two of you tag-teaming us with…whatever it is you can do, and mind-controlling rot powers?"

She wanted to sigh. She'd said that in an attempt to draw out the…

…the man she loved. An attempt to bring levity to the situation, a little humor, the way…

…the way he'd _taught_ her.

…but it wasn't working. She was a threat.

…She was a _threat_.

She was a **threat he couldn't ignore, no matter how much he had come to care for her.**

And while a small part of her was proud…proud that she had become strong enough in existence that he would take notice…

…it…

 _ **It's not how I want him to notice me…**_

"…no, Sir."

"Angela-

A glare.

A cleared throat.

" _Angelica_." A nod. "…why do you keep calling him that?"

The response…was not what Eveline, or Aristide, or _anyone_ had expected.

Nor was it the soft, mournful, _longing_ tone it was spoken in.

" **Because though we are on opposing sides in this matter, he is my Lord, and holds all the respect that title deserves."**

* * *

She was told she'd never met him before.

Wrong. She'd known him all her life. But it wasn't time to tell that tale. Instead, she told a half-truth.

"Wrong. I've known him for years. I only _met_ him a little while ago. But I've known him for longer."

"How?! You only leave every few months if that! And you never speak to anyone outside of this place!"

"You ask how?" Angelica replied. Her voice, still soft. Still calm. Still _longing_.

"Because he is Nothing."

Eveline blinked.

"He is _Nobody_."

And then it dawned on her.

"He is _**Nowhere.**_ "

It all made sense.

"He is the **Voidwalker**. The **Voice in the Abyss.** The **Empty Sky**. The one who **Listens for those who hear no sound.** Who **Speaks for those who have no voice.** He is **Nothingness Ascendant**."

… _and the most important person in my life._

… _sorry Lumi._

"And yet you still stand opposed to him." Alma spoke. "If he is your **Liege** , your **Lord,** then why don't you stand beside him?!"

"I exist, to oppose _you_. Project Angel is the creation of a being capable of matching and defeating One Who Is Of As God."

Someone to counter Alma, a Reality Warper in her own right.

"I don't _want_ to be a God I just want my _family_ to be together and _happy!_ "

"You can't stop what you are. Your existence is a threat to the world. It is a threat to _him_."

Alma glanced at Seth. "I…"

"Angelica…Stop this."

The caramel streaked teenager turned to him, a sad smile on her face.

"I am…truly Sorry, My Lord. I can't. This…this is my purpose. And…besides. I have some unresolved issues with your girlfriend."

Alma looked between the two wildly. "That's…that's impossible. I've never _met_ you until just now!"

The girl just turned to Alma, face morphing into an annoyed scowl. "Yeah, and you never _will_ , either."

"…what?"

Angelica rolled her eyes. "God, you really are an _**idiot**_ aren't you?"

It was that… _specific_ way of saying it.

Did Alma suddenly realize who she was dealing with.

The raven haired Psychic stumbled backwards, as the implications, the information, slammed into her like a fist to the gut.

"…oh…oh shit. You're-

Angelica seemed to stand straighter. Not in pride, nor arrogance. But in _defiance_.

"Someone who was _never_ supposed to be awake."

Alma just looked sadly at the girl.

"…why? Why do you hate me so much?! Since the moment we met you've done nothing but sling insults at me! What did I do to you?! I didn't, I _don't_ even know you!"

Angelica scoffed. "Live long enough and maybe you'll find that out."

The air seemed to shimmer around the teen.

"Sir…Selh'teus… _Seth_." The girl spoke.

"…I'm sorry. But please...just…"

She was blinking tears out of her eyes.

…because it hurt.

It hurt knowing what she was about to do.

It hurt… _not knowing_ …what would happen after all that was to come.

It hurt…that she was going to have to hurt _him…_

 **All to do…what she was born to do.**

"…just bare **With Me.** "

And the shimmer became a wall, that became a wave. The wave knocked everyone onto their backs, save Alma, who lashed out and parried it with a wave of her own.

…but it didn't matter…because a pained gasp was her distraction.

 **As a series of colored lights, ripped from Seth's chest, soaring through the air, to crash into Angelica's.**

A wall of pressure descended upon the arena.

 _ **"NOW COME ALMA! PROVE YOURSELF WORTHY! FACE THE TRUTH OF OUR EXISTENCE! THE SEVEN LIGHTS! THE GUARDIANS OF IDEYA!"**_

* * *

 **(BGM: Sonic and the Black Knight – With Me)**

It was as if facing the brunt of a raging hurricane. Sheer waves of force generated from telesthetic pressure ripped through the air, lashing at everyone, no matter who, like the myriad twirls of an angered living whip.

The only one, the _only_ being, not to be affected by the pure force of will erupting from the lithe teen, was _Selh'teus._

Her **Lord** , her _love_ , the one being she would happily claim to cherish above all others; the being she _ripped parts from_ , was held in a shimmering bubble of protection.

It was not by his will.

It was not by Alma's will, though she did wish it.

It was by _hers_.

However, what was happening now. Psychic or mundane. All were treated to the sight of the very floor and walls surrounding them, twisting and distorting like a flickering summer haze. The ground rippled and rumbled as the air _vibrated_ with the girl's will.

And less than a minute after the waves began, their vision became taken over by the sight of the ground beneath Angelica, splitting apart. Shattering in a circular wave like glass after a cannonball was fired through it, the ground twisted from the sterile grey masonry to a dusty yellow-orange sea of powdered stone in a desert canyon.

Off in the near distance, maybe about effectively five city blocks away, a giant, rook-shaped spire. Looking almost as if chiseled from some kind of marbled bone, it stood a few hundred feet into the air. And before their eyes, as the blue sky settled above, as the cacti sprouted from the ether, as the rocky outcroppings took form; a yellow shimmering light emerged, dropping into the center of the spire.

And then a massive explosion of **golden** yellow light, forming into a symbol-ringed shape of a single golden triangle, bisected vertically by a straight line.

Yet…at the same time, what almost appeared to be a faded _dome_ had surrounded Angelica and Alma alike, separating the two from their respective groups.

* * *

A loud clap.

Angelica had slapped her hands together, sparks of yellow flying from her fingertips. The noise brought Alma's attention back to her. She felt like she'd _recognized_ that symbol in the air.

" _ **Ryūsa Bakuryū!"**_

A _horrifically_ loud rumble. The ground beneath the two heaved and buckled. Alma's, no. _Everyone_.

They all stared in _terror_ , as a literal tsunami of stone rose into the air, shuddering and morphing into a towering wave of _sand_.

Which then came crashing down on a literally _squawking_ Alma.

With the clamor of a falling river, the sand wave slammed down, burying the psychic under its weight, crashing into and pooling at the edges of the now very obvious barrier.

The clap rang again.

" _ **Sabaku Taisō!"**_

Angelia's voice echoed with an almost monstrous tint. Her hands slammed down upon the freshly descended sea of sand. A similarly loud ***THRRRRRM*** echoed, the massive pool seeming to compress **downwards** , implicating impossibly crushing force.

Silence.

…horror.

…

 **Heat**.

Angelica's eyes narrowed into a glare as she started twitching her fingers. The golden yellow sparks crackled around her wrists, jumping between digits.

And then a _pillar_ of flame ripped from beneath the sand, superheating it, melting it into molten glass.

And a ruffled, panting **Alma** , stumbled to a landing.

Her head snapped up, enraged tirade on her lips, when the sparks became a storm around Angelica's hands, now clenched into fists. A crackling **hissle** erupted forth as the girl pulled her right arm back, ground beneath her crushing inward as she leapt high into the air. Alma tracked her, they _all_ tracked her, but none of them responded until after it was too late.

For Angelica, **hurled** the crackling sparks, now _shaped like a spear of pure electricity_ , at the time-displaced psychic. A whistling crackle screamed through the air as the **Lightning Spear** raced towards Alma, where it impact a hastily raised wall of psychic force with a loud, bone-rattling ***KCHWANG***

More crackles echoed. More spears chucked. The girl was practically flailing sending Spear after Spear at the psychic, who was beginning to utilize her own field defensively, not merely for barriers, but emulating her lover.

Seth had subscribed to the "Piccolo School of Battle", where the first lesson, was

 **DODGE!**

Three spears, one 3:10, one 8:25, one 1:22.

 **DODGE!**

Two spears, converging from 10 and 3:15

 **DODGE!**

Five spears. Pentagram formation. Area lockdown.

 **DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODGE!**

* * *

"Jesus christ…" Stokes muttered to herself. "Not even that Kaijuu thing was…what the hell is happening?"

They watched as Alma came to a stumbling roll after the evasion of the five spear impalement attempt. She popped to her feet, only to jerk back as suddenly Angelica was in her face, another crackling spear held, but this time, thrust as if trying to pierce her eyeballs. The girl twisted on her left foot, swinging wide. Alma ducked, hand cupping low, force building, but Angelica hopped, twirling like a corkscrew, _smashing_ through the orb shaped sand ball Alma had tried to chuck at her.

The crackling spear fizzled out of existence, but it didn't matter, as Angelica stomped the ground - a chunk of sand morphing into solid stone – and then thrust a single palm forward. The stone chunk smashed heavily into Alma's chest, throwing her back…

 **And the world shimmered and twisted.**

* * *

A pillar of flame.

The ground shuddered and rolled. Brown and gold and powdered dusty orange changed to grey and pale blue and green. The desert canyon slowly morphed into a gorgeous mountain valley. Crisp clear rivers could be seen off to the distance, leading to a picturesque waterfall. The bone white rook-shaped tower had changed locations, now being far to their left, situated at the top of a particular plateau.

The glittering light returned, this one a pulsing **crimson**. It descended, and formed into a beam. The air shuddered and crackled, flakes of ash and burning matter began fluttering on the winds. The sky tinted orange and black, as if clouds of smoke and ash were rolling in from out of perception range.

Yet like before, suspended in the air above the spire, was a symbol-ringed shape. This one, being two crimson orbs above and to the sides of an upside-down V. To a few, it looked like an almost cartoonish frowning face.

But to Alma and Angelica alike, it was _an erupting volcano, two solid chunks of molten stone emerging from its caldera._

* * *

There was little fanfare. Twin bursts of flame clashed. Alma's flames, born from her passion and desperation, struggling to counter Angelica's. Though they both wielded fire in ways that defied all laws of physics, it was clear that somehow, Angelica's burned hotter.

As well, they were tinged _violet_. Streaks, streams, arrows, bursts, explosions, but the most interesting where when Angelica manifested _whips_ of burning will.

And shockingly, after almost getting her hair seared off, Alma, began to retort the same.

Cracking snapping hissing streams of almost solidified fire lashed from both of their fingertips, crashing and twisting into and around one another. Pillars of burning rage erupted beneath both of them at random intervals, orbs and stars and even _swords_ of molten heated will were launched, thrown, parried, shattered, and crushed.

But this time, it was Alma, that landed a hit, a burst of power erupting at the core of Angelica's chest, detonating outwards. The girl tumbled back…

 **As the world distorted.**

* * *

A howling noise.

The flaming mountain valley crumbled. Grass fluttered wildly in an unfelt wind. The ashes ceased falling as pillars of bark erupted from the ground. A _wave_ of dark green washed over the ground.

And in seconds, suddenly, they were in a _massive_ _ **forest**_.

However, breaking the almost fairy-tale-esque visage of what would be a botanist's wet dream, was another rook-like spire in the distance.

The glittering star that descended was a strong **emerald** green. The beam that erupted forth, forming into a familiar ring. Inside, two vertical lines framing a single circle, with a smaller line emerging from its bottom. As if a key being braced in a lock, or a person, inside a corridor.

It would be here, that Alma learned the _danger_ of the air itself.

A lash of her right arm, and a nigh-invisible wave erupted from Angelica's position. The wave only _narrowly_ missed the psychic, yet the edge found purchase.

As very slowly, a trail of blood emerged from an obscenely thin cut on the woman's cheek. Her hand reaching up to swipe the blood off her face, staring at it in shock, and mounting horror, as a savage grin formed on Angelica's visage.

Another swing. Alma burst away. A torrent of leaves and grass billowed into the air. Swing. Swing swing swing.

She ducked, twisted, twirled. Leaping to the side of a tree before flipping off of it. The tree had been severed at its base, slowly toppling. Alma flung out a hand, grasping hold of the bark with her mind, whirling around and launching it towards Angelica, who simply waved her own hand, and Alma stared as the tree was **ground down into splinters**.

A spiraling twist of air crashed into her gut, throwing her backward. As she smashed into the forest floor, Alma's eyes flared a pulse of **green** , unseen by any.

A lifting wave of Angelica's hand, and a series of thick, flowered vines emerged from the treetops, racing towards Alma like living ropes. A glare, and the vines were incinerated, before a snarl summoned _her own_ vines, lashing out at twice the speed towards the teen.

Angelica blinked in actual total surprise, muttering a reflexive "wait _what?!_ " before she was entangled in greenery.

Where a single shout of irritation released a pulse of razor-sharp air, shredding it all to bits.

Douglas Holiday would later proclaim he'd never look at a salad the same way.

But that wouldn't matter.

 **For the world shuddered apart.**

* * *

A fountain spout into the air.

A gorgeous summer day. Blue sky, fluffy clouds, gleaming sunlight. A garden water park at the edge of a beachfront. A beautiful island paradise, gentle breeze, pleasant sea scent, cawing gulls. And off in the distance, situated on its own small island, the rook-spire.

A glittering, beautiful **ocean blue** light became the similar beam. Another ring of symbols, another shape in the core. An N with a single vertical line through it.

Alma barely had time to admire the view before a pressured blast of liquid slammed into a hastily risen telesthetic barrier. The surprise and speed of the attack caused her to fail to anchor it to the ground below her, and she was thrown backwards. Angelica was at her side, dense pools of water around her arms, forming into tendrils that lashed at the psychic like flailing limbs. Still disoriented from the impact with the ground, the psychic could do little against the fluid-arms that slowly surrounded her body.

Eyes widening as the realization of being drowned became a true fear, she _pushed_ with all her might, forcing a bubble of will to expand in her immediate area, _shattering_ the water around her.

A twist of Angelica's wrist and a spiraling sphere of water raced at high speeds towards the psychic from close range. But an exhausted, angered roar from Alma saw it _burning_ away into a heated mist.

This followed a pattern for a little while, as Angelica would hurl ether orb, tendril, or even pressured torrent like that of a fire hose at the psychic, only for Alma to burn it all away with increasingly darkening flames.

And then a stomp of Angelica's foot, had a sudden shocking cold envelop the air around Alma, preceding a pillar of pure solid ice, _bodily_ slamming into her torso from the ground below. Alma was thrown into the air, off her feet, where Angelica swept her leg along the ground, a wave of frost speedily crawling its way along the ground, rippling into a series of icicle spikes on Alma's landing-zone.

The psychic, having only enough time to realize **DANGER** , screeched at the ground, throwing her barely shaped will at the hazard, shattering the icicles beneath her, before she crashed shoulder first into the dirt. She had no time to register the oddity that she was **relatively unharmed from the impact** before she had to thrust her left hand into the dirt and _push_ again, throwing herself out of the way of a series of falling ice lances.

But that left her wide open, to be smacked dead on by the twisting waterspout that had exploded into existence right on top of her. The pressure beat at her harshly, keeping her from focusing enough to fight back, until it smashed into her heavily, flinging her back to the dirt where she tumbled to a stop…

 **While vision faded away.**

* * *

A distant howl.

The rook-spire was terrifyingly close. The blue sky had stilled. A **light-absorbingly black** inverse shine had appeared. The beam that emerged, rippled outwards, spilling darkness into the air, the ground, the very essence of sight being taken.

And then it melted. A nighttime sky. A glowing, eerily pale moon.

And superimposed upon its body, was another symbol ring. Two inward facing slashes, lines like narrowed eyes. A series of V shapes connected at the tips. The shape resembled the face of a sleeping monster, carved by pure black.

The ground was hard and stone. Large stalagmites had formed all around. A high cave ceiling, drips of water heard off in the distance. The pale moon's light shone through a single, large hole, faint illumination revealing the star-laden night sky. A cool chill hovered in the air as Alma rose to her feet.

Only to jump to the side as her body armor was rent by a claw made of pure black.

A feral grin was on Angelica's young face, arm coated in black that had been shoved into the ground. She rolled her shoulders, flexing her hands, before bursting into black wisps. Alma burst backwards, narrowly evading two crossing blades of blood-lined shadow. She threw up a field at an incoming ***WHUP-WHUP-WHUP*** noise, barely blocking a heavy sickle shaped blade of darkness, only to be punched in the back by a fist made of shadow.

Crashing face-first into the ground, Alma growled as the shadows rippled again, tendrils lashing out like bending spikes. She burst back in an evasion, lashing out with flame and will at the curving jagged shadow blades trying to carve into her. She curled inward, taking a _deep_ breath.

As a pool of black curled towards her, the psychic _screamed_ , a wall of fire ripping into the air around her, flaring wide and shining its burning orange light upon the dark…

 **Where the illumination blinded all.**

* * *

A bronze tinted sky.

When the burning flames cleared away the darkness, the shadows were chased away to reveal not the darkened cave they were in, but a floating ruin of suspended marbled pathways and bridges, lined with gold. Arches of expertly chiseled stone embroidered with golden lines and pale glowing symbols, unnaturally carved but well maintained river paths of waters falling into a misting ether, bronzed clouds of almost fluttering sigils and feathers filled the air in this place.

Off in the distance was not just the now extremely familiar rook-spire, but also a large, broken open church building. Its steeple still stood, golden bell gleaming in the strange hue.

 ***BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG.***

With each echoing ring of the giant bell came a stronger glow of the purest **white** above the rook-spire. Intensifying consistently as the tones continued, until it was that of a blinding star in the sky. As it descended, an almost _rapturous_ feeling settled over all, while its beam, did not _erupt_ , but seemed to gently rise, expanding out into the shape of multi-feathered wings that flapped twice, before beautifully breaking into motes of pure light.

The smaller shimmers gathered above, into another symbol ring, collecting to the center, forming a single circle that pulsed eight times, before the white lights spread out, expanding into four long lines at the circle's North, South, East, and West points, and smaller, thinner ones, at the hybrids, forming what looked as if to be a symbol of a shining star.

Panting, Alma tried to drink in the peaceful feeling.

 ***HAAAAAAAAAA-** _ **FROOOOOOOONNNNNNNNGGGG***_

However, her eyes widened drastically, as a holistic sound echoed through the air, before an incredibly thick beam of white light _tore_ down from the sky right on top of her. She burst backward as the beam impact the marble ground she had been stood upon, having to turn that into more evasions as more traces of light particles resonated around her, transforming into powerful lasers intending to erase her from existence with their purifying rays.

Even being near these beams felt like she was being seared from within, as if all her sins and hatreds were being weighed and judged and thrown against her.

Having dodged the array of purifying lasers, she once again threw up a telesthetic bubble around herself, barely stopping the speeding approach of a series of glowing golden white arrows heading for her. Pulsing out and ducking low on instinct, she evaded the arrow's secondary effect of detonating in wide, loud, chime-sounding ringing explosions.

And then she had to drop to her knees, avoiding the lightning-quick swing of a glowing-edged broadsword, held in Angelica's hands. She however, could not dodge or block the follow-up kick the teen launched at her, being snapped backward to hit…an invisible wall?

 _No…what…what is…_

" **Repent!"**

It was a wall of glowing, spiraling chains, emerging from a sudden multi-layered glowing pale white and pink array beneath them.

" **May these chains ensnare all sinners to purge them clean in holy light!"**

As Angelica slowly levitated in the center of all of it.

" _ **SHINING JUDGMENT!"**_

The chain wall carried Alma closer to the teen, as the glyph below them _detonated_ in sacred energies, beams of holy light crashing all around them from above. The psychic screamed as her body was irradiated with holy rays, their purifying force tearing at every part of her that was hatred, rage, or pain.

 **All as the light collapsed around them.**

* * *

A city background.

The sky was at twilight, twisting hues of blue and purple dotted with emergent stars. Alma had dropped to the ground, twitching, aching, feeling…off.

There was no rook-spire. Not visibly at least. However, a single tower building in the distance. Multiple pulsing lights dotting its sides. Suddenly, the sky turned yellow.

A beam of yellow light came roaring through the air, ending at the top of the tower, from the south-west. The color faded, as the sky turned red.

A second beam, crimson red, from the north-west, touching the tower's tip. Its radiance upon the sky too faded, as the air tinged heavily green.

The third beam, emerald, from the north-east. It pooled to a stop at the tower's highest point. The hue of light dimmed as the sky became a deep blue.

Fourth beam, ocean blue this time from the south-east. It rippled into place at the tower's edge. Its shimmer died almost completely, as space turned pitch black.

The fifth beam came from the west. It puddled like a well of shadow at the tower's aerie. It cracked and splintered into a glowing white.

A sixth beam, from the east. It gently molded into place at the tower's roof. Resting.

The beams all shuddered, turning into colored spheres. Each one rippled out into rings of symbols, each one crafting the core shape within. The symbols pulsed in sequence. First Yellow, then Red, then Green, Blue, Black, and finally White. They cycled this pulsing sequence multiple times, each pulse loosing a ringing tone into the air.

New, grey looking phantasmal lettering snaked from each ring to the space around the tower's spire. A final orb, a shimmering **silver**.

Like a star of glittering mercury, it pooled at the tip of the large tower dedicated to _something incredible_. The air shined with silver light as it too expanded into a ring of symbols, the core forging first, an X. Then two smaller vertical lines on just to the left and right sides of the X's crossing point. And then two larger, thicker horizontal lines at the tips.

The symbol pulsed once, after each other crest had shuddered, loosing one final ringing sound.

And then the entire array held in the sky.

* * *

It hurt. It hurt to think. It hurt to try to move. But she had to. Because she could feel it. The _finality_ of this situation. Everything had been leading to this point. The crest she could barely make out through her blurry eyes…she had been recognizing the symbols. They were _their_ symbols.

The crests _he_ designed, for each of his _family_.

She slowly rose, groaning. Her legs felt like jelly. Her arms were heavy. Her head was throbbing.

 **DODGE!**

A foot came swinging past her face. She stumbled to the ground. A low growl built in her chest.

She **shrieked.**

The ground cratered, trees and lampposts alike shuddered, rising into the air. Manhole covers, cars, even mailboxes, all lifted to the immediate sky. The shriek became a dense wall of pres-

 _ **-PAUSE-**_

Everything suddenly _shattered_ as Alma was sent flying, bouncing off the invisible barrier. As the world around them faded and shuddered back to the arena underneath the ground, Angelica suddenly appeared in Alma's personal space. The woman had dropped to her knees, overloaded by incomprehensible feelings. A sudden, savage kick, punted Alma away.

And like that. Angelica had defeated the God of Destruction.

* * *

Alma skidded to a pained stop with a low, whining moan. Her head was fuzzy, her body ached…

And yet for some reason…it felt like the _only_ thing that hurt, was truly her chest where she was _just_ kicked.

… _what…the hell…?_

 **(BGM: Wild Arms – Oh Abby Maiden)**

A pained gasp.

Becket, Holiday and Stokes all lifted their weapons only to be forced to their knees by sudden pressure grasping their bodies. Angelica quietly strode past them, to where Seth was slowly rising. He had come to a shaking stand, being…stabilized…

By Angelica herself.

"…Evening…Sir."

His eyes were blurry and unfocused. She knew his head was pounding at this point. His body barely responsive. She'd done it. She did it to him. So of course she knew. She knew because she knew what she'd done.

"I…what…"

His mind was a mess. Not shattered, not broken. But weakened. _Open_. And she had to jump onto that.

"Hey…hey. Look at me?"

She watched his eyes attempt to focus on her. She smiled. A sad, watery, _enraptured_ smile.

A smile just for him.

For the man who-

…the man who she just kissed.

 _Hard_.

Her arms tensed as she forced her lips on his. Her body shuddered as a ripple of something impossible to define, washed through her body. Her heart pounded, her emotions _soared_.

And when she pulled away, it was almost reluctantly.

"…wha-

"I know…I don't have any grounds to ask _anything of you_." She cut him off, speaking softly, caressing his temples with her thumbs.

"Not after today, not after what I've done."

Not just the kiss she stole. Not merely the absolute trouncing of Alma. But all of that…and what she had to do to do it. The lie she had to tell, the truth she had to hide…to get to this point.

"But…I need you…to do me a _really big favor_."

 _This_ was what she was waiting for.

 _This_ was the moment she had been anticipating.

"The things…they call me…that's…just a part of me."

Angel.

Angela.

 _ **Angelica.**_

Subject, project, The Sleeper, That damn brat. All many titles and labels were given to her. She was all of those things…but she was none of them as well.

"I need…I need you to do…one last thing for me…"

His eyes, unfocused. His body, practically being held up by the teen. His mind, **wide open**.

She looked him, dead in the eyes. Standing on the tips of her toes, barely reaching nose to nose, but doing her _damndest_ , to rest his forehead upon hers.

He didn't know it.

Nobody knew it.

But she _loved him and him alone_.

"Please…"

Her voice was soft. Gentle. _Pleading_.

" **Say my name."**

It was such a strange request. Even in his weary, disoriented, addled state, he knew it was a strange request.

And yet…when his mouth opened…

Not a single thing anyone expected to hear, came from it.

" _ **Ob…si…di…a…"**_

The girl responded…

* * *

She had been sitting there the whole time. As if a sentinel, Mariko stood by her side, never moving. They were in the back of a room back at FEAR Headquarters, the room where Commissioner Betters and Jin Sun-Kwon were monitoring satellite feeds of the location of the underground facility.

Medea Wolfe, had remained in meditation. She did so once in a while to detach while grounding herself. She knew, even using her evolved powers to ping Alma as a resonance point, it was still highly difficult to get a bead on the location of her lover. But still, even just seeing _nothing_ , meant everything was fine.

…and then suddenly, her world _shattered._

 **And all she saw, was a black void…a single figure stood within.**

 **Swaying pink hair.**

 **A fluttering, maroon cloth.**

 **A pair of glowing, crimson eyes.**

 **And a wide, feral,** _ **rapturous**_ **smile.**

 _ **Dive too Deep**_


	24. Ascendant

_**-Kami ni, nare.-**_

She didn't have to do what she did. She could have easily just expanded her field, got in close, and pummeled Alma with a mixture of martial and psychic might.

 _ **-Kami ni, nare.-**_

But she did anyway. Reached into _him_ and drew out the pieces of himself that had been born as reflections to keep him alive. She was _there_ for the initial shattering, the initial breaking that created them. They were as much _her_ family, as they were his.

 _ **-Kami ni, nare.-**_

The lighthouse beacons had been lit. The sections of his mind, broken apart from his early teenage years, finally re-tethered. Not connected completely, even she couldn't do something like that. But strengthened. Each individual part now allowed to radiate fully.

 _ **-Kami ni, naru.-**_

And then she'd kissed him. A fairy tale ending to a story years in the making. The Princess and the Knight, sharing a kiss. All part of the contract between the two, the hidden bond that he knew nothing of, but she'd waited her whole life to fulfill.

 _ **-Kami ni, nare.-**_

And upon that kiss' end, she begged of him one last favor. One final task in her name, from her love, her lord, her everything.

" _ **Please…say my name."**_

And thus he spoke.

Changing, **everything.**

 _ **-Minna, shinde, kami ni, nare.-**_

 **A.L.M.A: Recurrence**

 **Interval 23 –** _ **Ascendant**_

He was groggy.

Tired. Confused.

His everything ached. His head felt like lead, body laden with weight beyond weight. Which given the nature of his supernatural abilities, was an extreme irony.

He could feel her small hands upon him. Holding him with a strength no teenager should hold. Keeping his swaying form steady, even though all he wanted to do was collapse into another slumber right then and there.

"… _ok…me?"_

He'd blinked rapidly, struggling to focus, fighting to even get his mind in order. He tried to pin his sight, his will, _anything_ his, on her. The girl that had…done something. He wasn't awake for it.

…she was smiling.

It was…different.

Some parts sad, some parts joyous, some parts repentant and some parts…almost lustful.

…ok that was a _weird_ thing to be feeling directed at him by a girl that was what…fourteen? Fifteen?

Yet still, his mind barely had time to comprehend the notion, when suddenly she lurched forward.

 **And her lips met his.**

Quite contrary to what one would expect, there was no sudden flooding of adrenalin or otherwise awakening of self in this moment. The second the girl had kissed him, it was just…pressure. More confusion. _Taste._

* * *

 _ **-Kami ni, nare.-**_

Her tongue had slipped between his lips, trying to ravage his like an enraged _master_ taking whip to a begging _servant_. She tasted…strange.

 _ **-Kami ni, nare.-**_

Some combination between faint strawberry and… _peppermint_.

 _ **-Kami ni, nare.-**_

His exhaustion was paramount, however. Even if he'd wanted to – respond? Retaliate? Remove her? – he could do nothing. His hands had found her waist, grabbing it weakly, in an attempt to counteract the weight she was pressing upon him. And it was _weight_ as while the girl was slender he was very unstable on his feet and she was trying to meld her body with his nearly the same way she was trying to probe his tonsils.

 _ **-Kami ni, nare.-**_

Yet still…she eventually pulled back. But even her that was not without action, as she'd nibbled his lower lip upon her retreat. Still…his muddled mind couldn't comprehend much beyond the…strange chanting he could vaguely make out off from the distance.

 _ **-Kami ni, naru.-**_

And then she spoke. A query that made – to him at least – no sense at all. Not that _anything_ in the last ten minutes (that he was conscious for) made sense.

" _Please…say my name."_

 _ **-Kami ni, nare.-**_

What an odd request. And now of all times? Didn't she just…basically make out with him? She was definitely cute and sure if he had been single or in _that_ kind of open relationship, then maybe a few years down the line he'd be up for giving the two of them a shot, but…

How ridiculous. Her name. Well, if it _helped_.

…and yet…

The word he…groaned out…the four syllables of determination of being that he uttered…

They _weren't_ the name she'd told him.

" _ **Ob…si…di…a…"**_

But the _smile_ she gave.

It pierced through the confusion. It tore through the exhaustion. It blasted the uncertainty to pieces.

The smile she gave him…

 _ **-Minna, shinde, kami ni, nare.-**_

That smile…

 **Was as if he had just named her in that very moment.**

But for every bit as beautiful the smile was. The feeling of clarity _rapidly_ drained. An exhaustion beyond even what he had been feeling previous _slammed_ into him like the fist of a raging Galka. His knees buckled. His feet faded from his perceptions. His muscles slackened.

… _ **Esta reh mekora  
Et kare…**_

 ***CRACK***

She had said something. Through that smile. Something he didn't catch. He'd heard…felt…something snap…break…shatter? But he couldn't tell what. Because his vision had become so blurry he could only barely make her out. He'd dropped to his knees, steadied by her somehow strong grip on his shoulders…

… _ **Ieh oh ishko rosto  
Iehi eh…**_

That suddenly vanished. With no counterweight to him, his body slumped forward.

 _ **Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh~  
Iiiiiiiiiiiii~**_

All…while vaguely hearing a hauntingly singing voice…

In the depths of his heart.

* * *

From her rising position, Alma _jumped_ when she heard the **crack**. A sound that she'd heard only once before. Her body _recoiled_ at the sound, instinctively.

She had watched the girl steady him.

She had watched the girl stabilize him.

She'd watched the girl _furiously make out_ with him.

And then, like everyone else, she heard the girl beg him to tell her _her own name_.

The name that he spoke, _wasn't_ what he'd been calling her previously.

" **Ob...si…di…a…"**

A name that meant _nothing_ to her. And yet…she would soon see, it meant _everything_.

Because the girl _smiled._ She smiled a smile that _hurt_ to see.

Because it was a smile that _Alma knew oh so well_.

The smile of one who had been acknowledged.

The smile of one who had just found what they were looking for in life.

The smile of a _damaged, broken little girl who just wanted to be loved._

And then she _heard_ it.

A voice, on the wind. Low, breathy, _haunting_. Echoing not in her ears, but in her _heart_. She heard not with the natural devices to determine sound, but with something incapable of being measured. Something beyond herself, beyond mortal, beyond even _immortal_ ken.

And when she heard that voice, she beheld the smiling teenage girl who had just effectively _violated the hell_ out of her own boyfriend/lover/partner's mouth…

 **Vanish.**

There was no flicker. No distortion of air or shimmering of space. She was merely there one moment, and gone the next.

And upon that next moment, she watched as her _someone_ , slowly dropped to the ground…

And then her eyes widened as _it all fell into place_.

 **As the world** _ **shuddered**_ **.**

This time…it was not merely Alma and Michael Becket, that saw _her_.

 **(BGM: NeiR: Automata – Possessed by Disease)**

A lithe body clad in what looked like a shimmering black, tight bodysuit. Every single curve, every muscle, was almost as visible as if the girl had been naked.

A thin maroon cloth, tied in a simple knot at the front. Fluttering away in an unfelt wind behind her, like a scarf.

A head of shaggy, chin-length pink hair. Bobbing under the curtails of _power_ beginning to waft off of her.

Glowing, vivid ruby red eyes. A rounded face. Peach lips. A lightly tanned complexion. Faint freckles along the ridge of her nose.

 _She_ float behind Selh'teus, like a looming spectre.

And just like the first time…the girl opened her mouth.

But instead of a single, shrill, _world rending_ scream…

 _ **Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh~  
Iiiiiiiiiiiii~**_

The resounding cry of incalculable voices all singing at once, emerged from the **Phantom Girl –** no, _**Obsidia's**_ gullet.

And again, resembling the first time Alma encountered her, everything that was _foe_ was forcibly lifted off the ground.

Yet just like that first day Alma met him, she _burst_ into black vapors.

…but the _song_ continued.

 _ **Ikasaseya harehare ha heya ikarhete haiiya  
Ikarahete iya ikarheye ikarahete iya ikaraha  
Ikasaseya harehare ha heya ikarhete haiiya  
Ikarahete iya ikarheye ikarahete iya ikaraha ya**_

Though she was gone, her voice, the voice that voiced a thousand voices, continued to chant, to sing, to _speak the words of one who would bring the_ _ **end**_ _._

 _ **Dive Too Deep**_

As the first chant drilled into their minds, Selh'teus too, began to lift off of the ground. Body limp, suspended like a rising marionette with only a few strings left. His back began to arch, arms and legs dangling listlessly, before a _shudder_ rippled through the air around him.

 _ **Tenkaigan**_

The space surrounding his body _devoured the light_.

 _ **Empty Sky**_

Twisting and morphing, rippling and popping, until the _black_ ripped away, sending him back to the ground, where he landed heavily on bent knee.

 _ **Kusta des lekor  
Inkore de eh oh**_

Slowly, he began to rise.

 _ **Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh~**_

The air around him, immediately hugging his body, began to distort.

 _ **Ishko roso**_

As he rose, everything that had lifted upon Obsidia's cry, dropped harshly to the ground.

 _ **Iiiiiiiiiiiii~**_

"G-get up! Don't just lay there! Kill them!"

 _ **Ii re ii**_

The men scrambled to their feet. Grasping their weapons and raising them. Holiday rose his own but to his shock, _Stokes_ put her hand out and pushed it down.

"Don't bother, Holiday." She said, voice tight.

"Wha-why-

"They're already dead."

 _ **Ikasaseya harehare ha heya ikarhete haiiya  
**_

As the ATC Security members lifted their guns, the frantic chanting had started up again. Accompanied by the sound of beating drums and rapid echoes of string instruments.

 _ **Ikarahete iya ikarheye ikarahete iya ikaraha**_

The song, which none could determine the origin of, heralded their coming destruction.

As suddenly, Selh'teus vanished.

 _ **Ikasaseya harehare ha heya ikarhete haiiya**_

And then one of the blue-garbed men went flying across the arena, where he impact the wall with such force, his body _pulped_ into blooded chunks of bone, meat, and shredded cloth.

 _Everyone_ froze.

Because where the man had stood.

 _ **Ikarahete iya ikarheye ikarahete iya ikaraha ya**_

Now stood a short figure in a tight black body suit with rose-pink hair.

And she was _grinning ferally_ at the men around her.

 _ **Kurekasa  
**_ _ **Iskahete Iskaheso**_

A lightning fast twirl on the balls of her feet and suddenly his foot lashed out catching a guard in the ribs. A pulse of force rippled through the man's body, snapping his spine and tossing him twenty feet away.

 _ **Deretaku  
**_ _ **Iskahete Iskaheta**_

Guns rose and triggers pulled, but the bullets only worked to hit other guards, as he had vanished in a ripple of air. Three guards were cut down by their own ally's twitch-fire, while she had emerged from the _shift_ with right hand jabbing forward _through_ another shooter's windpipe.

 _ **Furemasa  
**_ _ **Iskahete Iskaheso**_

 ***KAERNK*** The sound of space itself being rent. The shooters had turned to trying to fist fight Selh'teus, quickly learning that _nothing was going to work_. One of theirs was launched away, towards Becket and the others, only for the air around the guard to distort rapidly and _heavily_ , space collapsing inwards, turning the man into nothing more than a smear of blood on the ground at their feet.

 _ **Ibunsare  
**_ _ **Iskahete Iskatta**_

Her hair bobbed and swayed as her body flickered like a series of still images. A swing of fist to a guard's temple had his head exploding. A lash of leg had broken an arm and his follow-up reverse roundhouse had finished the job by crushing the same guard's ribcage.

 _ **Kusta des lekor  
Inkore de eh oh  
Ishko  
**_

"GRENADE OUT!"

The metal sphere was thrown from a man's hand into the air. Where it was quickly caught in Selh'teus' hand, before hand and explosive were thrust into the stomach of its thrower. The guard had only a moment to realize his folly, when the grenade detonated, backed by a wall of force that directed the explosion _only_ at the guard.

 _ **Ikas ihares ihares ihetes haiyaha**_ _ **  
roso  
**_ _ **Ikesa ikia ii ikares ika ikiraha**_ _ **  
**_

Their numbers were dwindling rapidly. Obsidia had already turned the battle even more disgusting as she'd grabbed the leg of one of the still living yet bleeding out guards and used him as if a baseball bat to smash bodily through three others, before chucking him away, fingers of the right arm that had tossed him, coming together in a crisp snap. Another loud ***KAERNK*** and the guard _detonated_ from within, blood splattering to the ground before being evaporated by the crater that formed from the force.

 _ **Ii re ii  
**_ _ **Iyaka iyane ikare ikares haiyaha  
Idame ikias ii ikares hekareta ihaya**_

What was once a force of roughly thirty strong, was now down to five. ***KAERNK*** No wait, make that four. The fifth had just been crushed after being slammed head first into the ground from his right leg. His skull had already fractured from the impact, the last pulse just an afterthought.

 _ **Kusta des lekor  
Inkore di eh oh  
**_ _ **Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh~**_ _ **  
Ishko roso  
**_ _ **Iiiiiiiiiiiii~**_ _ **  
Ii re ii**_

She had become a whirlwind of death. Blood and flesh colored the air around him. Every swing of fist was like a mountain. Every movement like a flicker of light. Every impact bringing destruction.

 _ **Ikasaseya harehare ha heya ikarhete haiiya  
Ikarahete iya ikaraheye ikarahete iya ikaraha  
**_

Fist into a ribcage. ***KAERNK***

Foot to skull. ***KAERNK***

 _ **Ikasaseya harehare ha heya ikarhete haiiya  
Ikarahete iya ikaraheye ikarahete iya ikaraha ya**_

A sweep of her legs tripped up the third remaining, a weak pulse suspending him in the air, where a lash of his left foot slammed home, a loud ***P-TOONK*** echoing as a ripple of space heralded the launching into the wall about fifty feet away. A wet _splat_ was the result.

 _ **Kurekasa  
**_ _ **Iskahete Iskahesu**_ _ **  
Deretaku  
**_ _ **Iskahete Iskaheta**_

The last one had dropped his gun, stumbling backward. Terror in his eyes, bile in his throat. The **demon** was unstoppable. Impossible to defeat. Incapable of loss. Its movements were like that of a beast of prey. A predator beyond predators. A monster of monsters. Too fast to track, too powerful to defend against. Never knowing where, when, _how_ it would strike. The air itself had become death.

 _ **Furemasa  
**_ _ **Iskahete Iskaheso**_ _ **  
Ibunsare  
**_ _ **Iskahete Iskatta…**_

So wrapped up in his fears, he didn't hear the song taper off. The frantic, haunting, _cackling_ chanting slowly dying. So caught up in his terror, he didn't see _her_ slowly walk up to him. So blinded by the visions of his _slaughtered_ comrades, he didn't notice when she stopped right in front of his face.

…and then a tap on his nose brought him out of his catatonic state.

Only to see a pair of amused, glowing red eyes.

" _ **Boo."**_

Something in his chest _tore_. His eyes lost focus. His body dropped.

He'd died. Not of _their_ will…

But of a terror induced heart attack.

* * *

The pressure had been continuous. The feeling of weight beyond weight, of being in the presence of something far beyond their comprehension. The second Selh'teus had spoken that stuttering four syllables, the weight had been nearly unfathomable. It wasn't a weighted pressure of something physical pressing down upon him. But merely the weight of _concept_.

He'd had no outward psychic power, no ability like his…mother…to influence the world around him with his will. His power was internal. It heightened his reflexes to such an extent that his movements were like a trick of the light. His reaction times and instincts were nearly incalculable. Maybe it was mild precognition. Maybe it was just that his powers were inverted. Rather than affecting the outside world, it affected only him.

It would explain why he was able to heal so quickly with only use of simple bandages and disinfectants.

But he could _perceive_ the supernatural to a great extent. Again, possibly a sign of his latent power. He'd seen all of his mother's child-self's projections, had seen the distortions of memory left behind by his brother's actions. Deposits of hatred and malice had coalesced in front of him as images and sounds, snippets of people's last moments before being destroyed by his family.

So perhaps that's why he was the only one _shuddering_ the second his mother's…whatever he was, spoke that name. They had all seen her. Seen them. Clearly. But he was, it seemed, the only one who _felt_ them.

His mother felt like pain and hate…well she used to. Her presence had been like a burning, tearing agony. Ripping at his flesh and mind. Smothering yet rejecting. Clinging, scrabbling, scraping force.

But they… _they_ felt like _emptiness_. Hope crushing, life ending, soul devouring emptiness. Weaponized nothingness given the form of a man and teenage girl.

He'd seen horrible things, at his mother's hands. Bodies melted down to their skeletons in seconds. Charred, blackened corpses. Shattered skulls and torn out innards. She was, a wrathful, vengeful goddess that had descended upon the world to wreak havoc on those who stole her children.

But this…

The girl was smirking. _Enjoying_ the desolation she brought. The man, was stoic. Face blank. Eyes shimmering an indiscernible color from his weary eyes.

But they were _destruction incarnate_.

And while it terrified him that his mother had…basically fallen in love, apparently, with such a being…

Some part of him could only find it comical that the raging monster that was Alma Wade, had been tamed by a force just as dangerous as her.

* * *

He'd stood there. At the site of the last death.

And then his body shuddered.

And there came the form of Angelica Bucket.

The hoodie was wide open now, revealing the black bodysuit she had been wearing after being named 'Obsidia'. Her hair, no longer merely caramel streaked black, but now with rose-pink tips. Her eyes, gentle, as she reached up and held Selh'teus' cheeks in her hands.

And thus she spoke, only two words.

" _ **Conflict Resolved."**_

And as if a puppet cut from its strings, Selh'teus dropped into her waiting arms.

* * *

 **(BGM: Hollow Knight – Crystal Peak)**

It was a strange thing to see. A slip of a girl cradling Selh'teus' head in her lap, stroking his crown like one would a favored pet. The smile on her face, equal parts remorseful and joyous, looking out of place on such a young person. The others approached, Alma herself physically shaking off the lingering effects of having had her ass handed to her by the girl holding her significant person.

And the girl just shushed them.

"Shh. Let him rest." She spoke softly, not once taking her eyes off of the unconscious man in her lap.

"What-

She shook her head, cutting off Becket.

"Not yet. When he wakes up. It won't be long."

She still refused to look at anyone else.

And yet, moments after she spoke, a hand twitched, and a heavy intake of breath.

* * *

Warm.

A little hard on his face. But warm.

A lot hard on the rest of him. That part was cold.

And…fingers? In his hair. Oooh…that felt good. Digits kneading softly into his scalp. The rest of him ached but his head was feeling…relaxed. Still…

Wasn't he just doing something? Now…wasn't the time to be laying down…was it? No…no it wasn't.

But man…that head stroking felt _really_ good. He didn't _really_ want to get up…

 _Uuughhhfhughhhfuggin…ghuh…_

See? Even his thoughts were sluggish.

But…

 _Uuuugh…I…friggin…might as well…_

It took a lot more mental effort than he'd thought it would.

"Fhhughuuuuuhhh…" came the groan from his throat. "Any…onegt…th'name'a'th'colony tha'drop'n'me…?"

And with a gentle smile, though unseen by him, the girl who's lap he lay in, replied.

" _ **Obsidia."**_

* * *

His eyes slowly opened. A blurry mass was above him, dangling tresses like darkened tendrils. His eyes squeezed shut, before rapidly opening in closing. A big blurry shape appeared in his view. It grew.

His eyes closed, and the soft hand stroked the inner corners. Gentle fingers traced along to his temples, where they began squeezing softly in a continuous, counter-clockwise rotating motion. He blinked open again, seeing the watery smile on the girl's face.

"Hey…" she said, a trace of hesitation in her voice.

"…hey…Lica…"

The smile gained a little more joy.

"You remembered."

"…somehow…"

Her thumbs reached out and gave a separate kind of squeeze. One with traces of thankfulness. He didn't…truly understand…but he was just gonna go with it.

"…I gotta get up."

"…yeah…I know."

"I dun wanna."

A tinkling laugh. "Yeah. I know."

His eyes narrowed. "You ain't _that_ good, kid."

The smile became a smirk. "Maybe." The tone held hints of mischief. Like she knew something he didn't.

"Still gotta get up." He said.

She shrugged. "I'm not stopping you."

His eyes narrowed again, and he tried to rise. He lifted himself ever so slightly, and she scoot backwards to give him space…only for him to drop back to the ground.

"…fuck."

She snorted, getting to her knees before standing herself.

"…how do up." Came the deadpan response.

"Y'know…there's a pill for that." She replied, cheekily. The loud slap of hand meeting face echoed.

Eveline had facepalmed.

"and _you_ , are lucky you're wearing a bodysuit." That reply came due to Angelica having stood over Selh'teus in such a way that were it not for the leggings of her mentioned bodysuit, the perfect anime-level upskirt scenario would be occurring. Of course, the girl in question just snorted again, the smile morphing even further with joy.

"Pervert." Came her retort, filled with…loving mirth? …odd.

He groaned. "Shit you're like…fourteen. Fuck." Her eyes rolled and she knelt down to his level.

"Fifteen, actually. And we can let that one slide. Your mind's still rebooting, and let's face it, my ass _is_ fantastic."

"…ignoring the hell out of that last bit…help a brother up?"

Hand, in face. He reached his own arm up, as she took his hand in hers, stepping down towards his waist for leverage, and _pulled_.

"Huuuup y'go!"

He rose, planting feet beneath him, only to stumble into her, where once again, she caught him.

"if I didn't know any better I'd be wondering if you're falling for me, big guy." She quipped, with a smirk on her face.

"My legs forgot how to leg you underage troglodyte." Cue cackle from Angelica.

* * *

It was…strange to watch them interact.

She'd never seen Angela-

 _Angelica. Her name, apparently, has always been Angelica._

…she'd never seen _Angelica_ be so…open. So free. Even around Eveline herself, the girl was…not morose or subdued, but more…reticent. Nowhere near as animated as she was with this man.

And stranger still, the man… _matched_ her.

Then again, Eveline did just watch the teenager not only go toe-to-toe with Alma "World Ender" Wade herself, but also… _merge_ with whomever that man was.

And that _kiss!_

That kiss was clearly filled with far more than the ones Angelica planted on-

 _We do not think of such things that did_ _ **not**_ _happen._

Who _was_ this man?

Yes, Angelica insinuated that the man was responsible for the book the girl treated like her own personal bible. And yes, it seemed that man was indeed the author of said book but…

She acted like she'd known him her entire life…and was just now catching up on lost time. She was…was like a doting… _girlfriend_. Besotted and attentive and reactive to the slightest hints of need he displayed. In such a short time it was obvious he meant the _world_ to her, and even if he didn't completely reciprocate she didn't care she was…

She _loved_ him. That much was very obvious. Eveline had been taking care of Angelica for years. And despite an event that she was refusing to acknowledge, she knew, or rather she _thought_ she knew, everything about the girl and her moods.

And yet…she'd never even _hinted_ at such wide-eyed adoration. Such casual camaraderie. And even as she half-carried him to the collected group-

" _Lica I'm fine."_

" _Bullshit, my hand is practically on your ass and I can feel your legs wobbling."_

The smile never left her face.

…a smile as if…she'd finally found her home.

…

 _So what does that…mean for me…?_

* * *

It was true though. His legs were wobbly and weak. They were recovering quickly, but right now, he needed to lean on the shoulders of the girl that hadn't stopped _smiling at him_ ; more than he wished to.

But regardless, the duo made the short trek to the rest of the group, where he paused, and sighed. An emotionless one, more a heavy releasing of air rather than anything invested.

"Welp. Job's done, let's go home."

"Gladly." Came the relieved sigh of a retort from Stokes.

Seth however, turned his head to the girl acting like his living crutch. "Any last second surprises we need to worry about, 'Lica?"

Still smiling the girl shook her head. "Nope. Should be all-

 **ALERT**

 **SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE INITIATED**

 **ALL PERSONEL TO EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY**

 **ALERT**

 **TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES TO SELF-DESTRUCT**

They all froze.

" **OH THAT PISS DRINKING ASS SNORTING USED TAMPON OF A SMEGMA GUZZLING SHIT HUFFING SEWER BRAINED RESULT OF A DEAD DOG JIZZING INSIDE A PUS-LADEN WRINKLY OLD WORM-FILLED DONKEY CUNT!"**

…and then _Angelica_ , exploded.

Selh'teus winced at the literally screamed explicative laden rant, as she was of course, right next to his ear. And then after shaking his head of the ringing, parroted her.

"A 'pus-laden wrinkly old worm-filled donkey cunt.' _Damn._ Tell us how you _really_ feel **Pipes.** "

Her head snapped to him, eyes still blazing in absolute _fury_. And then she drunk in the look of impressed amusement. Her cheeks, slightly flushed from raw anger, flushed _deeper_ , only this time in embarrassment.

"I-…well…y'know…itsaperfectlycromulentdescription." she speed mumbled, looking away.

Despite the newly announced threat, Selh'teus couldn't help but chuckle. "Wrinkly. Old. worm-filled. Donkey cunt." He reiterated.

"Seth! Self-destruct!" Becket barked.

"Hai, hai…" The only other person of color in the room waved off Becket's concern.

"Lica, now would be the time to stop blocking Alma." He said, turning back to the girl.

"Yeah…about that…"

A raised eyebrow was his only response.

"I can't."

Frown.

"Can't, or _won't_?"

She shook her head wildly. He noticed her grip on him tightening and…a…sense of… _terror_? …not his own but…

… _was that Angelica?_

" **Can't!** I swear it sir, I can't."

… _yeah she's terrified. The hell?_

"Hey, hey…easy." Right hand rising up, cupping a cheek. She was _definitely_ terrified. But…not of _death_. But…of him?

 _Rejection…maybe? I don't know…really what she did after she kissed me just that it's all foggy but…_

The kiss she'd given him, was equal parts desperation as it was _something more_. Even in his nearly braindead state, he could _feel_ that. _What_ that 'more' was, however…

"Why not?" he inquired calmly.

"It's not…it's not a thing I control. At all."

"Angelica was tailored…attuned, you could say, to counter Alma in every way." Eveline spoke up, a slight waver to her tone. But still the woman shrugged. "She was…designed, to block Alma as best as she could."

The girl in question nodded. And then Selh'teus sighed.

"So it's a passive skill? Tch, that's gonna be a pain in the ass…"

The girl's head bowed. And then suddenly snapped up, looking directly at him.

"I…have an idea."

"Is it Gross?"

She froze, blinking at him. Until a slow, weak smile began to form.

"Absolutely disgusting, really."

Selh'teus nodded sagely.

Honestly the group probably should have been moving but…he was _so goddamn calm_. With the exclusion of Alma and Eveline, every single one of the others were combat veterans. They'd been through _serious shit_. But not a single one of them would have been able to match _his_ calm.

Alma's son, was the only one who had ever come close. What little Becket knew of Selh'teus, that he'd mostly gotten from 'listening' to Alma, was that he thought in multiple directions at once, sometimes locking himself up to block out certain events until it was safe to let go.

And in those moments, he would sometimes turn to enforced brevity, to keep control.

"Let's hear it then."

"…I was…made…to basically be _her_ Anti-Existence. The closer I am to her, the more…funneled…her powers become. I can't _fully_ stop them but I sort of…twist the signal to the rest of the world her powers send. Distort it. We never got to test the range but its proximity based."

She'd started, hesitant. Then built her focus. She didn't look at anyone _but_ him. She couldn't. If she did, she knew, she'd have lost her nerve.

"She can't…as easily, or as heavily, influence the world around her as long as I'm nearby."

"So what's your idea?"

"I…might be able to do something about the Self-Destruct. But I'd have to go deeper to do it. That _cuntwrinkle_ Aristide slipped away while you were unconscious. She must have activated it to try to get rid of us. But I have…an idea of how to maybe stop it. Maybe."

"You need us to go with you."

She shook her head. "…no. …just you."

"No." Alma cut in. And yet Selh'teus' hand rose.

He looked at Angelica. _Truly_ looked at her.

There were tears in her eyes, but they held his gaze, strong.

"…we're tethered now…aren't we?" He spoke quietly. Other than the softness, there was little inflection to him.

She bit her lower lip…and nodded.

"Is it permanent?"

"I…I don't know. I'm so-

Finger to her lips. She was shaking.

"all I want from you, is an explanation how. _After_ this."

She nodded frantically. "I will. I _promise_."

He nodded back, softly. "And in this _House_ we keep our promises."

He didn't know it. But something in her _clicked into place_ the moment he spoke those words.

He didn't know it. But he could _see_ her entire stance shift.

He didn't know it. But 'Angelica Bucket' had just become the _happiest woman on Earth._

"Yes, Sir. We do."

"Seth wha-

"Becket." He cut Alma off. "Take the others and go. Fast as you can. Anything is in your way, it dies."

Becket's eyes narrowed. "What are you-

"Alma." The woman turned to him.

Yet he was still only looking at the teen in his arms.

"If Angelica is right about her powers than you'll get more of yours back the farther away you get from her. As soon as you can, I want you to _bleat_ out an impulse to _get the fuck as far away from here as people can_ , as _loud_ as possible. There's not terribly many people living in this area but that changes in a five block ring. If they don't listen that's on them but I need you, to _try_."

"Wait but-

" _Alma!_ "

Her mouth snapped shut.

Because now he was looking at her.

And while a small part of her wanted to _melt_ into a pile of quivering goo at the intensity of his stare, the rest of her stood shock still, ramrod straight.

For her **Lord** was in command.

"That's an _order_."

"Yes My Lord." No hesitation. She had, from the day she met, wanted to give him her everything. She had, indeed, given him her everything. Even when he was confused, even when he was wary; he had been her guide, her partner, her _best friend_.

He **believed**. And if _he_ believed, then so too, would she.

 **ALERT**

 **TWENTY MINUTES TO SELF-DESTRUCT**

"We need to move. _Now_."

 **(BGM: NieR Automata – Song of the End)**

"Evie, go with them!" Angelica called, as she and Selh'teus turned to head _back down_ into the depths of the facility.

"Bu-

"Dammit Eveline just _go!_ I need you alive you _idiot_!"

Eveline blinked as she recoiled.

That wasn't…anger.

…that wasn't _anger_.

That…was not… _just_ anger.

There was _love_ there.

Eveline was a botanist by hobby due to her admittedly weak powers, and a psychology major by trade. She understood, for the most part, emotions and how they worked and both affected and _effected_ the mind. As well, her affinity for plant-life, had bloomed – for ironic use of the term – a weak side-ability of minor empathy.

It's what allowed her to…best interact, with Angelica, during the days of experimentation and testing.

And Eveline was…surprised. To feel _love_ , directed at her, by the teen.

Especially since she'd only ever thought the girl felt resigned acceptance of her place.

…and then _that night_ happened.

…love.

…the girl loved her. In some capacity.

…

"You owe me a goddamned explanation." Eveline said, strongly.

The girl just grinned. "Then you better live, Evie."

"I expect you to come back, _Angelica_."

The girl just saluted.

"FISHING!" Suddenly Alma yelled out.

Everyone turned to her. But she had eyes only for Seth.

" _Idiot_ what are you-

"You come back, and you're taking me fishing!" Alma cut Angelica off.

"…fishing?" Seth retorted, incredulously.

Alma gave a hard, firm nod. "I don't care where. The lake behind your house, the ocean, a boat in a fucking river I don't _care_ , you're taking me on a _date_ and that date is _fishing_!"

He just…blinked rapidly. And then chuckled. "Alright. Fishing."

" _Promise me._ "

He shook his head, still smiling. "I promise."

A final firm nod. As if the words were spoken in the Voice of God been carved into the side of a stone monolith.

And the two groups split apart.

* * *

The race was on. Holiday had given Stokes his gear to lighten his load. As he was now carrying FEAR's point man on his back, he'd required as much weight reduction as he could get. To his astonishment, Alma had waved her hand, adding a slight bit of her own telekinetic power to the effort, lightening the man to roughly two-thirds his original weight. While it wasn't a _huge_ margin, it definitely helped.

Speaking of. Alma had led the jogging group. Out of any of them, thanks to having ripped into the minds of what few Guards her team had encountered along the way, she knew the standard routes best. As well, Eveline, was keeping pace and explaining procedures along the way.

"During emergencies all non-freight or service elevators are put into lockdown. There's only a few routes out of the facility at best and half of them get closed off for safety concerns."

Their best bet, was to get in, the way they came. But the issue with that was it took them half an hour to get even half-way to where Alma's son had been kept. As well, the psychic in question could still feel the…buzzing sensation of whatever it was that Angelica does when she's blocking Alma.

Along with the distinct…lack…of feeling Selh'teus.

It was only due to the training he'd put her through, combined with her knowledge that Angelica was also the **Phantom Girl** , that kept her focused.

Still, even as they raced up stairwells and through linear hallways, as the alert chimed in every few minutes with its harrowing warning, it stuck out in the backs of their minds, that they…

Even if they made it _out_ , it was unlikely they could get away…

* * *

She knew a few shortcuts.

And by shortcuts, she meant blowing a few holes in places.

"Room on our left has less wiring! Dorothy was complaining about the lights constantly flickering!"

They'd cut an entire five minutes of walking, two of running, by her ripping open the floor in what seemed like an empty room. Dropping down past sparking wires and broken ceiling tiles, the girl blasted the wall open and the two hopped out, before beginning their sprint anew.

"Five doors down is a service closet! The back of the wall has weak plastering that leads to a pipeline two floors down to an out-of-service bathroom! Cidney Chang was trying to get someone to fix the thing for months!"

Door. Door. Door. Hallway. Door. Door. * **SCCRUNCH***

Space twisted inwards as the door was grasped with psychic force and ripped off its hinges.

" **Banshō Ten'in!"**

A metal shelf, some cleaning supplies, a pair of mops, a trio of brooms and about five buckets came racing out of the small room. And as Angelica had stated, the back wall had a bad looking plaster job.

"Shit man _I_ could do a better cover-up and I have like, two months experience with my Uncle…" Seth muttered.

 **ALERT**

 **FIFTEEN MINUTES TO SELF-DESTRUCT**

* * *

"This is taking too long!"

Stokes had called out, over the din of the newest alert.

She was right. They still had at _least_ fifteen minutes of travel time before even getting to one of the entrances.

That was when Alma's son had an idea.

"Alma…"

She hadn't heard him. Holiday did, but She didn't. She was busy looking ahead, trying to determine not only the fastest route, but whether or not she was able to _teleport_.

"Alma!"

Still nothing. She'd partially descended into her own head, trying to sort memories, trying to map out pathways…

Trying to save their lives.

"MOM!"

Suddenly her head snapped up, body coming to an abrupt halt, before whirling around in abject shock.

"…you called me mom."

"Yeah…well…you weren't exactly answering…"

"I…sorry." She was fighting off the urge to squeal like a schoolgirl and _glomp_ her son.

"I have an idea." He said. "I don't know if it'll work but…"

The group had come to a stop. "Buddy, if _you_ have an idea, we're all ears." Holiday said, kneeling down to let the other man stand on his own, but helping steady him.

"Alma… _mom_. Can you get into my head?"

"…i…think so."

"I want to try to…ping the Replicas."

Becket was about to speak when Eveline cut him off.

"You're thinking of using them to help us escape? But how-

"If I can…get them awake, they can prep a vehicle for us. Maybe even blow open a few walls or floors. Speed things up."

Eveline nodded. "yes…yes that could work."

"How." Alma asked her son, directly.

"Signal refraction."

Alma blinked, defining the words. "…like a prisim. Use my power as an amplifier. Alright."

She stepped closer to her son, who was, at least in body, now older than her.

"I need you to hold my hands."

He did so. "Mister Holiday, you might want to step back a little. Could be pulses."

The man in question, followed suit.

"Now…son. Close your eyes."

Putting his trust in the woman who birthed him even if she didn't look a day over twenty, he did.

"This is going to feel a little weird."

It…did. Like a strange…wiggling buzz in his head.

"So just relax…" she whispered, fighting oh so hard to control her giddiness at being able to _finally_ properly connect with her son.

"Now…" the two of them, in surprising synchronization, took a deep breath.

" **Witness Infinity…and** _ **shit yourself.**_ **"**

"…wait wha-

And the world around him _crumbled_.

* * *

A left turn into an office. The pair blew through three different doors, crossing in half a minute what would have been a five minute walk around to cross the floor. Another door ripped off its hinges led to a maintenance shaft just above a small walkway for a service staircase.

One more door blown open, and the two were above a nearly pitch black expanse.

"Ok…I need you to trust me."

"Bit late for that innit?" was his panting retort.

"We can shave off the last few floors if we make a bit of a precise jump."

"ii jamp, ii jamp, sugee jamp?"

"Pretty much, yeah." He was impressed she understood that.

"Rally Kupo then."

She nodded and pointed. "We need to hit that wall and go down."

"on it, coach."

The two stepped away from the rather flimsily placed safety railing, before dashing forward as a pair, kicking off and _bursting_ towards the far wall, which was angled at about one-hundred twenty five degrees, sloping downward. Both of their left hands were coated in a semi-adhesive field, anchoring them to the smooth plaster, allowing them to slide down.

"In about thirty seconds we kick off and jump! We'll be just outside the attunement chamber!"

"Count us down when we get ten out!"

"Yes sir!"

His heart was pounding. Though he was anchored to the wall, the blackness below seemed to swallow all light. He wasn't certain he could survive _any_ fall, even with the girl next to him helping. But time was running out…and she seemed to have things planned out.

They'd definitely turned a twenty minute trek into a ten minute jog.

"TEN!"

Time to get his head back in the game.

"NINE!"

He didn't know what she was planning. But that she'd claimed it 'gross' was enough to know it was dangerous.

"EIGHT!"

Not that getting down here _wasn't_ dangerous. No human threats, but lots of…well explosions and risks.

"SEVEN!"

Still…getting involved with Alma to such an extent…it was his choice.

"SIX!"

And he wanted her happy. He wanted all his girls to be happy.

"FIVE!"

Even this one. Whether he knew it or not, she was his as well.

"FOUR!"

She'd definitely shaped herself as his.

"THREE!"

Far less submissive than Mariko, but similarly done.

"TWO!"

After all this…he'd have to ask her why. Sure the book was written for people around her age specifically but…

"ONE!"

What did she endure…that she would… _tether_ herself to him?

"JUMP NOW!"

Three bursts of pressure all aligned in different locations but set off at the same time. One collective at his feet, one near the small of his back, and one between his shoulders. A loud crack was heard as the wall endured the brunt of the repulsive intent he'd placed to throw him forward across the darkness.

Where there was a small walkway, the same one they'd traversed to reach the now open sphere that Alma's son was held in. He threw himself forward into a front flip to attempt to bleed off some speed, successfully landing harshly on his feet upon the loud metal.

Angelica however, had waited a second too long, and landed away from him, her own touchdown being in the form of a tuck-and-roll that ended with her popping to her feet and trotting over to the control panel.

* * *

It had worked.

Using Alma as a relay point, her Son had taken command of what Replica forces remained. Most of them were in the lower levels, but a few were above, and had been directed to begin preparations for their escape. A few rumbles and flickering lights here and there signified those directives being followed.

Taking the earlier idea, walls and floors were being collapsed with what explosives were available, to make for shortcuts for the group to travel through. Bundles of chords had been dropped through holes in ceilings where the group climbed up, assisted by their once enemies.

The group had been led by a pair of Replicas, to a cargo lift that had continued to be operational through the emergency. Very similarly to her Son's own retreat from the Origin facility. Only this one, had come with an unmarked box-truck, fueled up and engine running.

As they ascended, Alma detached slightly, aiming to fulfill her Lord's request.

She pushed down her fear, sealed off her terror, and focused on her _worry_. Grasping hold as if it were a wriggling fish, she pulled it apart, filling the holes in its concept with the overwhelming urge to _leave_. To _get far away_. To _take what is most cherished and flee_. Her eyes were scrunched shut, brow furrowed as her hair began fluttering of its own accord.

"Ooooh…kay…that feels…weird…" Stokes said suddenly, as her heart had begun racing as if she was in a panic.

"…sorry…" Alma mumbled, trying to figure out how to shield her _allies_ from the reverse call.

 **ALERT**

 **FIVE MINUTES TO SELF-DESTRUCT**

"…come on Angel…" Eveline whispered, praying for her…her little sister's success at _whatever_ it was she was planning.

* * *

He was in the chair. She'd strapped him in herself. He'd asked why him, when his power wasn't _psychic_ and she just replied that the system required someone to be strapped in, and he didn't know how to operate it.

He had no retort, as all above was true.

They were cutting it close. The last warning had rung out two minutes ago, and she was still fiddling with controls.

And then suddenly she'd stopped. Hitting a final keystroke, and stepping into the 'bubble', the 'lid' began to close. Slowly, gently, she climbed on top of him, straddling his waist.

"…so…what happens next?"

She let out a long, heavy sigh.

The lid closed, bathing them in darkness.

"I…uhh…"

A series of small orange lights came to life on the inside of the sphere. Above him was a headset with a blinder, but it had gone ignored. He peered into the girl's eyes, suspiciously. Her hesitation was…oh.

"…you need to kiss me again don't you." He said flatly.

She flinched, looked at him, bowed her head, and nodded.

"why."

"It…helps me focus. Grounds me…I guess."

"Tether?"

"I think so…"

He sighed himself. "I'm putting it out there-

"You're not a pedophile. This…is…emergency conditions."

"Supernatural bullshittery." He amended.

She nodded. "Supernatural bullshittery."

"Fine…we don't have much time and I can't bitch if I want to live anyway so…"

He leaned back. "come at me bro."

She gave an amused huff, before looking at him. _Really_ looking at him.

"Thank you…for being there." She said.

He blinked but before he could retort, she'd pitched forward, and once again their lips met.

Only… _this time_ , something in his _chest_ responded.

… _what…was…_

He had barely been coherent the last time she'd kissed him. He vaguely recalled ferocity, desperation, _need_ …and lots of tongue and the faint taste of peppermint.

 _This_ time…

It was soft.

It was gentle.

It spoke of _innocence_ and _purity of thought_.

But before he could try to properly parse the differences, she'd pulled away with a soft sigh.

Their eyes met.

"…I love you, Papa."

Wait what?

 _ **Wait what?**_

"wait wha-

" _ **ALTHENA'S LIGHT SHINE FORTH!"**_

* * *

The lift had deposited them at the onset of a cargo tunnel, still underground. With a mighty squeal of rubber on metal, the grey painted truck took off. The automated message had entered its final countdown two minutes. Emergency lights were flaring, klaxons were blaring, and security gates were only _just_ opening in time for the truck to barrel through.

Except one.

" **Commander, the outside door isn't responding."**

At the speed they were going, they'd hit the double-reinforced doorway in under a minute.

"Keep going." Alma suddenly said.

"…Alma?" Becket hedged, hesitantly.

The woman's eyes had turned blood red.

"Full speed. You stop for nothing."

She could feel it.

"You heard the lady."

The tingling was _gone_.

" **Understood Commander."**

Her power was _hers_ again.

"Alma what are you-

This life was _hers_.

"We need to go through."

 **And no man made door was going to stop her from living it.**

"We're going through."

And with a soft * **schuup*** of displaced air, she vanished.

A thump above. She was on the roof of the truck, fingers coated in _sharp_ , digging into the roof and holding her steady.

She saw the obstruction. A thick gate made of two vertical halves.

It was in their way.

It was in their _way_.

 _It was in their goddamn way._

It.

Was _dead_.

 ***AAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHH***

It was all the soldier could do to not react.

The others, however, flinched and covered their ears at the mighty _howling screech_ that Alma emitted.

Unknowingly to her, she'd unconsciously mimicked the screeching roar made by the **Legiana** from her silenced nightmare of when Seth had first been taken from her.

Her will had been sharpened, her desire had been compacted, her drive fueled her power and a mighty _pulse_ rippled from her body. The walls cracked, the ceiling of the tunnel shuddered…

But the _door_.

The door…was _erased_.

The wave of _**destroy**_ broke upon its form, seeping into every minor imperfection before rapidly expanding in a twisting wave of obliteration. The door was killed so dead that not even the _idea_ of it remained.

The truck barreled through where the security door used to be, as the countdown reached its final thirty seconds.

"Punch it!"

Pedal pushed to maximum down, the truck _roared_ through the abandoned street, taking a straight path away from the hidden facility…but…

"Oh god, we didn't make it out soon enough…" Eveline realized, horrified.

 ***KAERNK***

Everyone froze at the sound. Becket saw that the truck's walls had _bent inward_.

"…Alma…?"

 ***AAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHH***

 _Another_ screech-roar…

"Brace yourselves!"

And to the astonishment of the Replica driving them…

They began to _lift off of the ground_.

"Private! Report!"

" **Commander. The Psychic has lifted the vehicle off the ground. She's flying us, sir. We're gaining altitude and speed, rapidly."**

Eveline's eyes were practically popping out of their sockets. "…we never would have stood a chance…" she muttered absently to herself.

And then suddenly the truck _rocked_.

"What just-

 ***KRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMM***

"…oh shit."

The self destruct had gone off.

" **FUCK!"**

The shockwave had hit them, and Alma lost control. She felt her field crumble from the impact and the truck began to list incorrectly in mid-air. She scrambled for her focus but could not grasp it.

She wouldn't be able to.

It was all she could do, to screw her eyes shut as the truck tilted wrongly, and _teleport herself to safety_ as it crashed roof-first through an apartment building.

* * *

Far above the eastern seaboard, a satellite recorded the activities over the past two hours.

This particular satellite belonged to the US Government, licensed for use by the First Encounter Assault and Recon team, created to deal with supernatural events and possible threats on US soil. The Hannibal-4 - an upgrade to the Hannibal-3 – had been launched not long after the Origin facility explosion.

This one, equipped with a state-of-the-art camera capable of piercing electromagnetic interference, recorded _everything_ that had gone on during the time of FEAR's infiltration of what would later be known as the Sovereign Facility.

It relayed its view in real-time, back to FEAR headquarters, manned and manipulated by a team of five to ten highly trained and skilled individuals in audio, visual, and electromagnetic recording fields.

A team, that had _felt_ the explosion. The rumbling of the earth beneath their feet, the vibration in the air, the _charge of discharged power_.

Standing at the back of the operations monitor room, were Rodney Betters, Jin Sun-Kwon, Mariko Kusumi, Medea Wolfe, Katelyn Stokes, and both Claire and Lumina Farron. It was _boring_ , up till then, and they would _all_ agree that was a _good thing_.

But then the shockwave hit, the ground began to shake, and the monitor feed _lit up_.

Literally.

Medea stiffened, Mariko gasped, Claire teared up and Lumina cried out, as the screen showed the area where they had pinpointed the facility, suddenly shining like a brilliant star.

They watched the buildings nearest to the epicenter, crack and splinter, the force of the explosion hammering them like the angered fist of a raging giant.

And then…

They watched it _stop_.

"Jenkens! What just happened?! Where's the feed?" Betters barked out.

"It's not us, sir! The feed is-

The feed was still going.

"…what the hell…?"

And it now showed, a _black spot_ , where the light once was.

Everyone, from people running physical papers to deliver to individual tech experts, to the tech experts, to the signal monitors, to the damn _clean-up crew_.

They all _stopped and stared_.

As the area where the Sovereign facility was, became engulfed in a black sphere, that _sucked in everything within a two block radius_.

And in that same shock, they watched, as the black dot _shrunk_. Slowly. Until all that was left, was a two-block wide, perfectly formed crater.

It was _Medea_ that broke the silent spell.

She gave a harsh, coughing gasp, as suddenly she recoiled as if she'd just been punched in the stomach by a heavyweight champion.

And before her eyes, the world twisted and _broke_.

 **No cost too great.**

Her eyes widened in horror.

 **No will to break.**

The image she had clung to. The sight of her and her most cherished, smiling, happy, _together_.

 **No mind to think.**

 _Crumbled._

 **No voice to cry suffering.**

It faded to grey, flickering like static.

 **Born of God and Void.**

It fragmented, like glass.

 **To seal the blinding light that plagues their dreams.**

And broke apart.

 **I am Nobody.**

Replaced with nothing more than an expanse of black.

 **I am Nowhere.**

An abyss beyond all darkness.

 **I am Nothing.**

All while the wailing cries of a distressed infant, backed by the low, echoing roar of a waking beast filled her heart.

 **I am Zero.**

As the last sight she saw was a pair of crimson eyes on a freckled, lightly tanned face, framed by shaggy, pale pink hair.

Smirking at something only it could see.

 **The End, has Come.**


End file.
